


A Song of Memories: After the Fallen Meteor

by Risukage



Series: A Song of Memories: The Collected Works [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Drama, Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn, Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn Spoilers, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Romance, Smut, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 97,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24320329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risukage/pseuds/Risukage
Summary: Five years after the Calamity and ten years after he first left Ul'dah, Lysander Morgensonne returns to his old home to pay his respects, as he does every year.  This time, however, he gets caught up in events that will eventually change not only the course of the world, but everything he knew about himself.  He has never tried to be a hero, or thinks he ever could be, but when the Scions of the Seventh Dawn learn that he has recently gained the Echo they ask for his help, and how could he not?  It's the right thing to do.  It is strange, though...he can't remember the last few years for some reason...This story has gods-damn near everything: adventure, action, fluff, romance, smut, comedy, drama, and a bunch of other stuff that I promise is really interesting.  It also will span the ENTIRE game, so buckle in for a very long ride.  And despite the "relationships" tag of "everyone," even though Lysander flirts with goddamnneareveryone (with varying degrees of success and determination), thereismore than just pr0n, and I promise that there's actually a reason for the smut, not just "LOL AND THEN THEY SMASHED." Lastly, tags will also be added as they happen (and I remember them!). :3
Relationships: Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) & Everyone, Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Series: A Song of Memories: The Collected Works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755733
Comments: 45
Kudos: 17





	1. Many Things Lost

**Author's Note:**

> //I've had this in mind for a LONG time, but after mentioning the idea to a few friends and being told "HOLY SHIT I WILL READ THE FUCK OUT OF THAT" I'm finally getting about to writing it down. Funny enough, I know how it's going to go, and how it will end (yes, all the way through Shadowbringers), but getting it _started_ has been a right pain in my ass because ARR's MSQ was a fetch-heavy mess. It's taken me no small amount of time to track down the dialogue/events for it all and pull out the few threads I actually need to weave this story, but I'm finally there. And if this first chapter looks familiar then yes, it's lifted straight from his RP prologue. However, it tangents drastically after that, as RP!Lysander and WoL!Lysander have drastically different stories. And yes, this first chapter is set ten years before the Calamity, after that is, well, afterward, as I really wanted to leave this bit in. I'm still chuffed about it, and it sets the tone for his journey ahead. Especially since somewhere between here and the next chapter he can't recall some things, or a couple of years outright. How odd... :3//

He was clever.

What money he did have was split between his backpack and guitar case, carefully hidden in places none would think to look. A bit of money for use was in a pocket, but if it were taken he would not be destitute. Not that anyone would have interest in bothering him anyway; tall for 15 years old but not with a terribly strong build, he didn't look as though he had anything of worth to take and it wouldn't be worth the bother anyway. Further, he dressed in the style of the adventurers that were getting common lately, and therefore probably had a trick up his sleeve, as many thieves and muggers had learned the hard way.

He didn't.

Besides the clothes, backpack, and guitar on his back, he possessed little other than a recently-acquired thousand-yalm stare. Everything that he'd had previous he had sold, and kept only a -literal- handful of items. He had no need for them any longer, not since he had already lost what was most precious to him.

He had walked north from Ul'dah for a number of hours, pausing only to drink water when he remembered, or to adjust the light fabric he'd wrapped around his head to protect from the harsh Thanalan sun when the wind shifted it. Hazel eyes stared out from a gap in the protective headwear, and from the bottom, long, copper-red hair that he apparently was not used to wearing loose, as it kept getting caught by the wind, and he kept grabbing it out of confusion, only to quickly yank away his hand.

The sun had nearly set and he had kept walking, though it appeared to be because he simply hadn't had anything to stop him, not out of an actual destination. The dimming light finally caught his attention, and he looked around to get his bearings, noticing an inn of some sort nearby.

Oh, lodging. He'd not thought of that when he had left. He hadn't been thinking of anything, really, despite trying to think of anything other than the pain of loss...

Unwinding the delicate fabric from around his head, he tied it to one of his backpack straps and walked into the inn, ducking to the side to avoid potentially colliding with someone. Nobody was leaving, so he took the opportunity to sweep the room with an unblinking, uncaring stare. He noticed a small stage in the corner, and for a moment felt a tug, wanting to get up there. It was what he had trained to do, what he had done so many times.

...But it hadn't saved them. It was his fault that they were gone...

The innkeeper, watching him from behind the bar, finally sighed and got his attention. "You perform?" he asked, and the traveler blinked as he realized that the question had been directed at him. "I might be able to offer a discount on meals or lodging if you do well enough, a crowd spends a bit more when in a good mood." Considering this, the traveler nodded and began to take off his gear, groaning with pain as he did so. "Y'got a name?"

"...Lysander Morgensonne."

The innkeeper shrugged. "Well, Lysander, like I said, if you can change the mood here I might be able to make it worth your while."

Putting his backpack by the bar where it wouldn't easily be rummaged through or stolen, he picked up the guitar case and moved to the stage. From the case he pulled out a lovely black-lacquered guitar, and after a moment of quiet tuning, strummed once, creating a pleasant sound that got the attention of nearly everyone. After playing the opening bars to a favorite Ul'dahn tune, he sang, and those who hadn't noticed or cared earlier now did. One could hear that his voice was still changing, but it was still lovely, and he had clearly trained to accommodate for his continuing change. He played a couple more songs before he got quiet and his vision blurred.

There was one song he'd never hear again. It had been only a little more than a week, but...

The previous songs had been upbeat and bright, but this one was sweet and sad. For a moment, just a few precious minutes, he heard her singing with him, as they had always done, in harmony with each other. The room fell silent, listening respectfully, though they didn't understand why. This song had meant something to him, and they all listened silently until he finished.

It hadn't helped, the pain was worse. Putting down the guitar, he stepped to the center of the stage. He needed to focus on something else. He flowed into dance, concentrating on his movements, pushing away all other thoughts. He needed no music, he created it as he moved, translating sound into a visual spectacle at which one could marvel. Nothing else mattered at that moment, as he poured himself into the art and moved with fluid grace and beauty. Once more the room was silent, but now it was awe, and nobody dared to break the spell that he was casting. He finished the dance, and it seemed as though everyone was collectively holding their breath, waiting for someone else to risk ruining the moment.

Someone finally did, and then the applause began. Lysander heard almost none of it, the pain was still there, the noise in his head... A different dance, and once again the audience was enraptured. And again. And again, until he was too exhausted to continue.

As he stepped off the stage he staggered, and was caught by a rather well-dressed Elezen man. "You were marvelous! Please, share my table, I must know more about where you learned your art."

Numbly, Lysander nodded in reply, and followed to a table in a private part of the inn. He sat down and stared off at nothing, certain that he should do or say something, but there was so much noise in his head that he couldn't think.

"I have taken the liberty of ordering a meal already as I assumed that after that performance you would be famished. Ah, further, if you require lodging my room has a spare bed available."

The pieces finally fit together enough for Lysander to form a coherent thought, and he shrugged in agreement. "Just don't be too rough about it, it would be my first time, and I won't be very good about it."

The Elezen man's eyes went wide before he burst into hearty laughter. "Oh! My sincere apologies, I didn't realize that I had given you that impression! No, I assure you with all sincerity that my intentions are both chaste and honorable."

Blinking again, Lysander was certain that he should feel badly or embarrassed about that, but he was relieved to find that after everything that had happened he was simply numb. "...Sorry. It was rude of me to assume something like that."

"Do not fret," he chuckled, waving a hand, "now that I review my approach and choice of words I understand how you came to that conclusion. No, I am simply a traveler as well, and I am impressed by your skill. As my manservant is off taking care of his own personal business I am left alone tonight and thus have no company for a meal and have a bed spare for someone to use. If you don't mind me saying so, you look as though you badly need both."

Lysander nodded again, gratefully taking a glass of wine that had just been poured, and the alcohol helped numb the ache further. For the first time in many days he finally smiled, and felt a lump rise in his throat that he almost couldn't choke down. Without a word, the Elezen offered a handkerchief and busied himself with sampling his own wine until Lysander had composed himself.

"Thank you..." he said, letting the question speak for itself.

"Marichaunt, of Ishgard," the Elezen supplied, "which is why I seem to be one of the few who appears able to appreciate your talent. Please, tell me, where did you learn? Ah! Once you are done eating, that is," he remarked as one of the inn workers brought over their meal.

It was just now that Lysander realized just how ravenous he was, and only good manners and the desire to not insult his host kept him from stuffing himself. Besides, he knew he'd make himself sick if he rushed. After he had at least eaten enough to blunt the sharp edge of hunger he explained his upbringing in Ul'dah and where he had studied music and dance. He talked of his dream to eventually perform for the Sultana and her court, which snapped him back to reality.

"Is aught amiss?" asked Marichaunt, looking concerned but averse to prying.

Biting his lip, Lysander fought another wave of tears. "I...can't. Not anymore. It's my fault. They're gone and it's because of me..."

Refilling Lysander's glass, the Elezen recognized a fresh emotional wound and deliberately changed the subject. "Well, the weather here is such a change from home. The snows have just fallen and the land is gripped in cold, yet it is still hot enough here to cook the dinner before us. We are both hardy people, are we not? I endure the bitter, biting cold, and you the bright, burning sun. Surely we would perish in each other's home, but at home we are right at home, are we not?"

The distraction helped and Lysander hesitantly asked him about life in Ishgard, which Marichaunt was happy to expound upon, feeling quite relieved when a warm smile appeared that touched and lit up the young Hyur's eyes. He couldn't help but mirror his laugh as well; it was infectious and merry, and clearly he had needed that release.

Their repast finished, Lysander had a brief moment of panic before his host assured him that his belongings had been taken up to his room. "There is a bath in there as well, and I imagine that you would welcome that after your journey."

He would, and did, taking the opportunity to clean up properly, as he had no idea when he would be able to do so again. Marichaunt remained outside the door until Lysander told him to come in. "I'm not shy, and it's a bother to shout through the door," he said, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. The Elezen commented upon it, as he had never seen that color before, and Lysander's face fell as he wound a lock of it around his finger. "It is... It was mother's color. We...used to braid it for each other, so it wouldn't get in the way while she weaved and while I performed..."

The other man noticed that he had worn it loose earlier. ...Oh, that explained some of the story...

They conversed a while longer as Lysander finished his bath and changed into fresh clothes. He brushed out his hair rather listlessly until Marichaunt took it from his hand to work out the tangles himself. "Usually it is my manservant who does this for me, but he isn't here and you appear to require the assistance."

"...Thanks. Sorry to be a bother."

"You are far from a bother. Rather, you are the most interesting companion I have had in some time. Thank you."

Shortly after that Lysander reclined back on the bed, staring at the ceiling while the other man extinguished the lights and got into his own bed. He couldn't sleep yet, even though he was exhausted. Eventually, though, Marichaunt heard soft crying from across the room, and tried his best to appear asleep so as to spare his feelings. What had happened? It was none of his business, but even so, it hurt a little that he could do little to ease the other man's pain. However, he knew that what he had done had provided comfort, security, and hope, things that he knew had been greatly appreciated that evening.

He dozed off himself when he finally heard soft, even breathing from the other bed...

The next morning Lysander woke and stared in confusion at an unfamiliar ceiling. He sat up and looked around, saw the other man still sleeping in another bed, and remembered the previous day. Drawing his knees up to his chest, Lysander buried his face in his legs, feeling the need to cry but was still too emotionally drained to do so. Besides, he already had last night, and what was the point? It would just leave him tired again and feeling worse. And it would cause distress to the very kind person who had given him a meal and a place to sleep, and he couldn't do that. With a sigh he flopped back onto the pillow, then froze when he heard Marichaunt shift, sitting up and yawning.

"Ah, good morning, Lysander. I trust that you slept well?"

The gentle smile that the Elezen had, along with the rumpled look of sleep was somewhat charming, and the Hyur couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah, I did. Thanks again."

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Marichaunt stood and stretched (something that Lysander watched with more interest than he had expected), and approached his temporary roommate to extend a hand. "Well, if you are fully awake then let us prepare for the day. Err... To where is it you are going again? I do not recall you mentioning."

Lysander paused partway through getting up and almost fell over, catching himself at the last second. He sighed and sagged, still holding Marichaunt's hand. "I... I don't know. It doesn't matter, honestly. I'm just running away, like a coward. Not good for anything, really, I don't have a home or family or future or... Or..." _Shit._ He felt the hot sting of tears and clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. No, he couldn't cry in front of this nice person like that, he didn't deserve it, not after the kindness he had showed and-

He blinked with surprise when Marichaunt hugged him softly, stroking his hair. "My sympathies, friend. If...I may call you such. Your loss is one that many of my people know and always saddens me to see, no matter who experiences it. I cannot offer you anything beyond kind words and a shoulder upon which to cry, and for that I hope it is enough."

"...It is, thanks." Hugging him back, Lysander dug his fingers into...his friend's back, needing that closeness, that sense of touch. He wasn't sure what he wanted. To do or go or... Anything. Marichaunt put a hand to the side of his face, looking concerned, and Lysander put his own over it, pressing it closer. Physical contact, that was what he wanted now, what he desperately needed. Not the gentle hug of his mother or the firm one of his father, something different. A friend, or...more? "...Sorry, I... My heart, soul, whatever, just feels so heavy but empty at the same time. I just need to be touched, I don't know why, and... Sorry, I'm being strange."

"You are not," the other man reassured, "you are in pain. You have suffered great loss all at once and that wound still bleeds. Would that I could erase your pain, but all I can provide is a salve, weak as it is."

Tears stung again, and Lysander sniffed and clutched Marichaunt's hand more fiercely to his face, as if he could push away all of the pain through sheer force of will. He felt a light touch and noticed that his companion had leaned down to press foreheads together, a small gesture, but innocently intimate. Leaning into that as well, he felt the ache hurt a bit less. "Thank you. This...all of this... It's so small but it's doing so much."

"Is there more that I can provide?"

"I...don't know. If you know anything? I...haven't ever... Gods, I'm all alone now..." Again the tears threatened to flow, and he gritted his teeth. He needed to be strong! He needed to- Pressure on his lips snapped him out of his mental spiral, and he opened his eyes again to see that Marichaunt had leaned further in to kiss him.

He gasped in surprise, and the Elezen blushed and pulled away. "Ah, I... I am sorry, that was too forward of me, I mistakenly thought that-"

"No, it's okay. I... Do that again." Hesitantly, Marichaunt did as asked, almost clumsy in his attempt this time. Still, this helped, and his free hand slid up the other man's arm to his shoulder to the back of his neck, holding him in place a little longer. When he finally let go so they could breathe again, he chuckled and smiled weakly. "That... That's nice. I'll have to do that more in the future."

Looking very relieved that he hadn't insulted or offended his guest, Marichaunt smiled as well, taking Lysander's hands in his own. "If I am available then I shall provide at that time. For now, perhaps something to eat before you decide what your next course of action is will be of help?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. I think...that I'll be able to think after that." With one more hug, Lysander retrieved his trousers that he had hung over the foot of the bed, having gone to bed in his smalls and shirt, same as Marichaunt.

After getting dressed he was pressed into a chair again to have his hair brushed out, which he reciprocated on the Elezen's long, strawberry-blonde hair. They were both silent, sorting out their own thoughts, sharing the space together but not feeling the need to fill it with idle chatter. Lysander tied his hair back with a bit of ribbon while Marichaunt washed his face in the bathroom, then did the same once the other man was done. Their preparations for the day complete, they took a table and ordered a light breakfast, and when it arrived Lysander stared into his tea, running his finger around the rim.

"...I still don't know," he remarked, his voice still flat and empty, "I don't want to do anything. I shouldn't just curl up and die, but...I don't have a future anymore. At least, not that I can think of. I still hurt too much to think clearly."

"You have your music and your dance. Those alone will pay your way to wherever it is you decide to go." The Elezen's smile was warm, even if there was a sadness to it. "If you do not mind company then my manservant and I would be happy to have a companion on our journey. But I understand that you still need to mourn and discover your new path. Here..." He pulled out some paper and wrote quickly in a tidy script. "This is my home in Ishgard. I am often on the road, but it is to there that I always return, and receive any delivered letters. It will be unlikely that I will be able to reply to anything sent while you travel, but perhaps having a place you can visit if you require or someone to whom you can write will be of comfort."

Taking the slip of paper, Lysander stared at it, committing it to memory before carefully folding it and putting it in a pocket. "It does, strangely. Thank you, again. I...think I'll be able to decide what to do in a little bit." Once more they shared that comfortable silence as they ate, finally sipping tea as they woke up the rest of the way. Lysander set down his empty cup and exhaled heavily, having apparently made a decision. "Limsa. We had always wanted to visit, but things never quite worked out. I guess now is as good a time as any. From there..." He shrugged and shook his head. "I'll think again when I get there. For now, though, it's enough."

"And my path will take me now to Gridania, a pity. Still, I am relieved to know that you have a destination for now. We have only just met, but already I consider you a friend and want to know you better."

Finding a smile, Lysander nodded. "Same. You're...sweet. Honest. Genuine." He chuckled, and the smile touched his eyes. "Were I more spiritual I'd say you were Azeyma herself sent to give me a hand. Or, wait, you're from Ishgard. Halone, sorry."

This got a warm laugh from the other man, who reached over to squeeze Lysander's hand. "You flatter me both ways. Would that I had the Fury's grace, but full glad am I that I can offer spiritual succor to one in need. Loath am I to depart, but I must needs prepare for my own travel shortly."

Nodding, Lysander sighed again, but the sadness had passed for the moment. "I should, too. The closest port to Limsa is in Vesper Bay, and that's a decent jaunt west of here. I should be able to pick up a ride on a caravan out from Black Brush station without any trouble. Heh, studying all of those maps at the Quicksand for hours on end really paid off," he huffed with a grin.

An hour later Lysander had everything on his back once more, and he untied the scarf from his backpack strap and smoothed it out, preparing to wrap it protectively aroused his face against the day that already promised to be hot and and bright. "I don't think I'll ever be able to fully express or pay back what you did, but I'll find a way." His hazel eyes were still a little lined with grief, but the smile that touched them made them warm. "I promise. At the least so I'll be able to see you again."

"Then it is a promise, friend, may the Twelve see fit to reunite us again, and soon. I do hope you find a place that you can stay as well, I would be relieved to be able to write to know you are well. And, perhaps, visit if my work takes me in your direction once more." This time it was Marichaunt who blinked away tears as they hugged again, and he pressed a soft kiss to the Hyur's cheek. Realizing his accidental affection, he was about to apologize when his companion laughed softly, pulling away enough to return with one on his lips.

"I think I can get used to doing that. Maybe we'll both have more practice the next time, yeah?"

Laughuing heartily, Marichaunt hugged him tightly. "I shall try!"

A few hours later, Lysander was aboard a caravan to Vesper Bay, staring out at the landscape as he allowed his thoughts to drift. Several more past that found him in the port town, negotiating passage upon the next ferry to Limsa.

 _Not much to look at,_ he thought as he wandered around while waiting for his departure time, _but to be fair, neither am I. Besides, it's just a place to pass through, can't imagine I'll be back here again. At least, not for long._

It was dark by the time he arrived in the seaside city, and though he was tired he still had enough energy to try to pay for room and board with a bit of entertainment. The innkeeper was amicable to this, preferring music to the usual raucous din of intoxicated sailors, and Lysander's performance earned him a bit of coin from appreciative audience members. This covered a decent meal that he gratefully devoured, as he hadn't eaten since that morning, and he was growing like a weed at this age. In his room, his backpack and guitar were set by the bed, which he sat down on heavily to remove his boots. Now that he was alone again he could let down his guard and remove the mask he'd worn since leaving that morning, and the pain that he had been holding back finally poured forth. He allowed himself the time to cry and let out the grief that was still too fresh, once more feeling exhausted for it but also grateful for the catharsis. Stripping off his clothes, he took a shower as hot as he could stand, dried himself off, and crawled under the fresh sheets with a sigh of weariness.

Through the slightly-open window the gentle crash of the ocean in the bay outside and the smell of sea spray were wholly new to him, but strangely, the new sensations were welcome. He had run away from his problems, he knew that, he wasn't going to lie to himself, but with his parents gone he had nothing left, no reason to stay. He had to start a new life, alone. Well, not completely, he had gained a friend, and that thought made him smile as he rolled onto his side, hugged a pillow to his chest, and found restful sleep for the entire night. He would look for a new home and future the next day.

Five years later, the world ended.


	2. Familiar Places and Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //W00t, the _actual_ story finally begins! I know that these first couple of chapters will likely be boring as hell because it's setting up stuff for the GOOD things later on, but I'm laying a solid foundation, damn it. Gotta make sure that stuff that won't show up until freakin' StB/ShB is all foreshadowed or at least alluded to here so you can have a "MIND BLOWN" moment later, right? (And further, this story _could not_ have happened until ShB dropped, 'cause there are many things that I didn't want to do or wasn't sure how to until we got all of that, so honestly, I'm nowhere near the writer that the FFXIV crew is, but I'll get there someday!) And yes, while his story will follow the spirit of MSQ, the events are going to be _very_ different, as among other things he's been an established adventurer for some time, and he freaking GREW UP in Ul'dah. I think he knows how the Aetherytes work and how to find the best deals at Sapphire Avenue, thanks. ;)
> 
> Choose your class, summon your favorite minion, and put on your best glamour, it's time for adventure! :D
> 
> (Also, FWIW, he's not rolling into town in the bog-standard Hyran gear, he's wearing the Falconer's set, more or less, but with fingerless gloves, because that's how he rolls.)//

_HEAR..._

_FEEL..._

_THINK..._

Well, this was a strange dream. Lysander was amused by the odd, echoing voice from nowhere but still everywhere as he floated in darkness that was still somehow lit, laughing at his own imagination. Lucid dreams were fun and he couldn't remember when he had last had one, so he took the chance to see if he could fly about or convince the dream to do something interesting while he still had the focus.

Then light got his attention, and he noticed that an enormous crystal had appeared; bluish white and filling his entire vision, it seemed to pulse gently while smaller shards gently orbited it. A fragment of memory tugged at his thoughts but while it was familiar he couldn't remember why. Perplexed, he flew around it, now a little vexed, wondering how and why it-

_CHAMPION. I AM IN NEED OF THY AID... THE POWER TO BANISH THE DARKNESS... GO, AND SHINE THY LIGHT UPON ALL CREATION..._

What? He wasn't a champion of anything, and light? This dream was _weird._ Had he eaten something funny before bed? Wait, he hadn't gone to bed yet, he was...

He was awoken by the breeze blowing his hair into his face, and he wrinkled his nose as he scratched the itch that had been produced. His hand went to his left ear to make sure that the wind hadn't made a tangle of his hair and the chain that connected the second piercing with one at the top, then remembered that he had replaced all three with studs for the moment during travel _because_ of reasons like that. He unlaced the front of his shirt a bit (a stylish garment in a dark red wine color, pleated at the bottom and loosely belted about the waist, with plenty of places to hide knives in addition to the obvious one on the belt) to pull out a crystal wrapped haphazardly in gold wire and hung on a leather cord. It had grown strangely warm against his chest, but now that he had examined it the strange item was, well, same as his body temperature. This kept happening, and always after bizarre dreams about crystals. Wrinkling his nose again, he tried to remember that odd dream, and wondered how he had managed to doze off. The ride had been a little boring but not _that_ much.

Both thoughts were forgotten when he saw the familiar walls that surrounded Ul'dah towering over him. It was no longer his home but he still felt a happy twinge of nostalgia. He would pay his respects the next day. First, however, he needed lodging and a few odd jobs for coin. And gossip. He wasn't an Upright Thief anymore (wait, no, they were the Rogue's Guild now), but old habits were still there for a reason, and it never hurt to keep a finger on the pulse of this city. Flicking his wrist with practiced skill, an ornate, black-lacquered fan slipped into his hand from the long sleeve, and he snapped it open to provide the breeze that had stopped now that the wind was being blocked. He grew up in this heat, but it was a bit stifling in this carriage, and the fan did a good job of discouraging smaller and bolder vilekin that always buzzed about this time of year. The cart passed through the Gate of Nald and pulled into the stables nearby, whereupon he put the fan back up his sleeve, grabbed his luggage (just a backpack and guitar) and disembarked, thanking the driver for a smooth trip and offering the chocobo a friendly pat on the neck.

The Quicksand was a short jaunt away, a straight line from this gate, the reason he always used this route. Shortly he was out of the desert sun and in the refreshing (if bustling) shade of the inn. With a hummed song and a long stride he went to the main counter and offered the innkeeper a warm smile. "H'lo, luv, how goes it?"

Momodi looked up from writing in a book nearly as big as she was, which technically wasn't that impressive for the Lalafell. "Business has been good, can't complain!" She squinted at him curiously, twiddling the feather quill pen between her fingers. "Pardon my saying so, but you look awfully familiar."

The smile grew wider as Lysander chuckled. "I should and shouldn't. I'm here only about once or twice a year. But I'm damn near as tall as a Highlander, and this hair _is_ hard to miss!" He wound a lock of copper-red hair around his finger before letting it join the rest that grew past his shoulders.

"Ah! That's right! Though forgive me if I can't remember your name to go with that handsome face."

Laughing again, Lysander folded his arms on the counter and rested his weight on them. "Lysander Morgensonne. I'll need a room for a couple of days, and word about some odd jobs what need doing." He nodded to the board on the wall that was covered in slips of paper. "It's less about the pay itself and more that I'm local enough that I think I can get away with a bit more of a personal touch if it's needed. Though if any of those are things, people, or creatures to be hunted down in some form or another I'm your man. Just looking to be able to cover said room and a few meals. I'll be moving on once I've taken care of my own business, y'know?"

Tapping a finger to her chin, Momodi considered him again before nodding. "I recall you saying the same sort of thing in years previous. It's funny what one remembers. Well, I do have something that I think I could bother you with if you're free relatively soon."

"Easily! I just need to drop these off and I can take care of it," he replied, hefting the backpack and guitar, "I'm still feeling good after the trip and don't need to get lunch or anything yet. What's the job? Just in case I need to take something with me, I'd rather not run back to my room."

"Just a courier run, you know where the Dispatch Yard is, right?" At his nod, she reached under the counter and picked up a couple of pieces of paper. "Well, just need some supplies run on down there. Present this at the kitchens to get the cargo and we'll get you loaded onto a bird out that way. Ask for Papashan, he'll be the one to receive and distribute everything."

"Ah, lunch for them?" he grinned, signing a couple of things and getting his room key.

"Among other things, aye. He'll give you a writ for payment when you get back. Well! Good to see you again, Lysander, I'll remember your name for the next few days, at least!"

Thanking her, he strode off to go find his room and drop off his luggage. With a quick check in the mirror to ensure he was presentable (and a bit of vanity!), he left and made his way to the kitchens. The request from Momodi was given to the person taking notes and orders, and after skimming it Lysander was directed to another door to await his mount and cargo. Once more he walked with a hum and a bounce in his step, feeling quite good. Ul'dah was no longer home, but it was still a nice place to come back to, and he liked to be useful. Half an hour later he was on the back of a large draft chocobo, its bags filled with supplies for those stationed at the Dispatch Yard, and he laughed as he dug in his heels to nudge his steed onward. Once they were in motion he was very glad that he'd remembered that scarf to wrap around his face; the glare of the sun was rather bad this time of day, and the wind would make an absolute mess of his hair. He remembered the route to the Yard, and apparently so did the chocobo, so he settled in for the ride and let the animal have its head and run as it liked. It wasn't long before he reined in, slowing to a trot as he approached the nearest person in uniform.

A Lalafell looked up at him, taking in his attire and the livery on the bird. "Momodi sent you?"

"Yup! You're Papashan?" asked Lysander, making an educated guess as he removed his headscarf and dismounted, "where do you need me?"

Gesturing for him to follow, Papashan led him to a couple of guards dressed as Brass Blades, waving them over. Lysander smiled and nodded at them, then frowned and looked them up and down thoughtfully as they approached. Noticing this, Papashan gave him a warily curious look. "Something wrong, lad?"

"Nothing wrong, no, just... I'm surprised to see Sultansworn outside of the palace." His guide stumbled, and the two guards assumed a defensive stance, looking to the Lallafell for orders.

"Wha- What gives you _that_ idea?" asked Papashan, clearly caught off-guard and in no state to try to deflect.

With a shrug, Lysander kept his hands in sight and on the chocobo's reins, being careful to not show signs of hostility, but at the same time looked completely at ease. "Father was a Flame, so I'm used to seeing a man move in chain and leather. But you're used to plate, it gives you a different stride and way you carry yourself. You're also used to working indoors, your complexions aren't the sort that see sun as much as most Blades will. You carry swords and shields like Blades, too, but you're not used to fighting as much as they are, and as such your weapons haven't seen enough use. Way too shiny and clean, y'know? And last, well, like I said, you carry yourselves differently. Blades are always expecting a fight or trickery, but when I rode up you didn't give me a second glance. You trusted Papashan to deal with me as your commanding officer but didn't consider me a potential threat."

All three stared at him open-mouthed until Papashan burst out laughing, doubling over and slapping his leg. "By the Twelve! You've got a good eye, lad, it takes a professional to notice that sort of thing in a glance."

Shrugging again, Lysander smiled lopsidedly, still trying not to look threatening, but he _was_ taller than the Lalafell and the Hyuran guard, and even the Roegadyn guard now looked at him with trepidation. "I'm an Upright- Damn, no, old name. I'm a Rogue, been trained to notice that sort of thing for a long time now."

"One of Jacke's boys? That explains a lot then. ...Hmm..." Papahsan rubbed his chin and waved at the guards, who moved to either side of Lysander, though it was just to begin removing the cargo from the chocobo's saddlebags. "And you're a local, if your father was a Flame."

"Yeah, grew up here, but haven't lived here in a while," Lysander supplied, now extremely curious where this conversation was going.

The shorter man gave him a scrutinizing look again, then blew out a short but heavy sigh. "Looks like the gods have sent me exactly what I need, then. If you'll hear me out then we need the help of someone like you."

This was getting more interesting by the minute, and Lysander nodded. "If you know what I am then you know what I can do. And if someone like you needs someone like me then things must be pretty bad."

"Aye lad. It's... The sultana. She often mingles among the citizens in disguise as a noblewoman."

"Hunh, clever. Talk to people directly and see things herself without it being filtered through advisors, or worse, the Syndicate."

"Exactly. Hmph, you're a clever sort yourself. So you see why we're skulking about in disguise. She's gone missing, and while we can't call it foul play yet, it's still got everyone in an absolute tizzy."

Lysander allowed himself a dark grin. "And you need someone who's good at being a sneaky bastard to find her before something bad happens. Got it. Anything I should know about or look for? It's not like most of us know what she looks like in the first place. Code phrases to use, too? If she's in disguise it's not like she'll just open up to anyone."

"The lady is blonde and favors pink garments, but I don't know if she's worn anything that could be a distinguishing feature. She goes by the name of Lady Lilira, but if you mention that I am looking for her then she is likely to reply favorably. Worst case, find her and report back. Usually when she runs off like this we find her out by the Sultantree, but we didn't see any sign of her last time we checked. She might be expecting it and therefore was waiting for us to leave, so perhaps someone a bit more stealthy can locate her."

Lysander's grin got wider as he snapped off a Flame salute. "I know just where to go from here. Don't worry, I'll take care of it, sir!" He handed over the reins and broke into a loping trot, a pace that he could keep up for a very long time. Being a dancer, he had stamina for days as it was, and the long stride from his height ate up the distance. He left the scarf off, instead tying it loosely around his waist, and kept a lookout for the Sultantree, an enormous, odd tree that was considered sacred by the sultanate and was the only one of its kind. Most children growing up in Ul'dah like he did enjoyed playing in its branches, as it was one of the few trees that had enough branches for such a thing and was sturdy enough for it. Never when adults were around, of course, that place was _sacred_ , one didn't just let children climb about like that!

The lone tree came into view and Lysander slowed his pace a little, as like most of Thanalan, it was quite flat and open, and there was little in the way of cover. Still, he didn't see anyone else around, which could be good and bad at the same time. He reduced his pace to a brisk walk and took a deep breath, holding it for a second as he focused, then let it out, letting himself also fade from view. He wasn't invisible, it wasn't any sort of magic like that. He was just...unremarkable. Nothing to notice. Most people only perceived things when that thing was directly in front of them or had a reason to get someone's attention. He did not want to be noticed, and so he made himself unnoticeable, and as such people just tended to look past him. Any Rogue worth their daggers knew how to do it, though there were very few that were as good as the top two in the guild, and Lysander was very nearly their equal. This didn't mean that _he_ wasn't going to pay attention, however, it just meant that it would be easier for him to observe and not be bothered. Crouching, he examined the ground, and grinned with delight to see footprints in the soft, almost sandy soil. They were fresh, as there wasn't much of a breeze, but there was enough to disturb some of the top layer of sand, and these prints still showed the layer underneath. Probably within the last hour. They were also _much_ smaller than his own, and the shape of the print and sole looked like comfortable shoes, but not ones made for hard walking, like his boots. He straightened and saw the path that they took and followed; they led to the Sultantree, as expected. Thankfully, there were no other tracks, or that would mean-

No. There. Sandal prints. Larger, the size of his own. Hyruan, likely, and they weren't from any of the guards he had talked to earlier, all of them were wearing heavier boots, more so than his own. He crouched again, noting the pattern of the other person's step and paused for thought. This person walked like he did; softly and trying not to be noticed. It was something that people like him would pick up, as it was people like him that walked like this, like he was doing now. These prints followed the same path as the others, but not alongside or behind, just in the same direction but coming from another direction. So whomever it was that was here was likely tracking down his quarry like he was. Carefully, he straightened once more and loosened his daggers in their sheaths, just in case. He felt confident that he could take this person in a fight if necessary, but he wanted to avoid that fight, if necessary.

The Sultantree wasn't completely out in the open, as it was somewhat tucked into a rise in the earth, giving it a U-shaped alcove of sorts. Lysander approached, keeping ears and eyes open for this mysterious person as well as the sultana. Moving with utmost care, he slipped around the opening and glanced inside, seeing only one person; a female Lalafell, kneeling in prayer. Stifling a sigh of relief, Lysander allowed himself a smile; blonde hair and pink clothes in a noble style, this was definitely the person he sought. Then his eyes tried to slide around a shadow, and he blinked, focusing on that shadow. He knew to look for it because he was doing the same himself just then, and after a moment of concentration saw another Hyruan man, roughly his own height, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. A little more focus and he saw short, unkempt blonde hair so platinum it was nearly white, a black tunic over a white shirt and green trousers, and leather caligae that laced up to the knee. Matching tattoos on either side of his neck were partially obscured by a choker made of white, braided fabric, and a strange device was strapped to his left shoulder, something that Lysander hadn't seen before. So he _had_ been right, and this was the person who had left that other set of tracks. A surge of mischief swelled up inside of him, and he moved over to the other man, who _should_ have noticed such a thing, but was much more focused on "Lady Lilira." As such, Lysander was able to get up close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Hey, handsome."

The other man swore loudly and almost leaped his own height straight up, flattening himself against the other wall and clutching his chest, looking not only spooked, but absolutely baffled as well. To her credit, "Lady Lilira" had also squeaked in surprise at the man's outburst, but noble breeding and haughty confidence kept her from reacting further. "You! Who goes there?" She demanded, then blinked at both men, clearly recognizing one of them. "Thancred?"

With a cheeky smirk, Lysander shifted his weight to one leg and hooked a thumb in his belt, waving casually in greeting. "Hello, Your Grace. Pardon the interruption, but Papashan is worried sick and asked me to go look for you." He turned his attention to the other person and waved again. "And you're Thancred, apparently? Looks like you beat me to it, should I head on back, then?"

"By the _Twelve_ , I think I just aged ten years," he muttered, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair, somehow making it messier. "And yes, Thancred Waters, but you seem to have the better of me, in a couple of respects."

Extending a friendly hand, the copper-haired Hyur grinned even more broadly. "Lysander Morgensonne, and unless I'm terribly mistaken, you learned the same tricks that I did the same place that I did. Though probably for different reasons, and are probably here for different as well."

Accepting and completing the gesture, Thancred returned a similar smile. "Slightly so. I'm here investigating aetheric disturbances and just happened to chance upon Lady Lilira here, so I thought it best to provide discreet protection just in case. It seems that I'm not the only one with that in mind." He paused, still holding Lysander's hand, giving him a very scrutinizing look. "I...swear that we've met before, you look familiar."

"Likely trained together or did a mission somewhere," Lysander shrugged, "and I get that often, I'm pretty easy to recognize, but apparently I'm hard to remember." Laughing, he turned and gave the sultana the same salute he had to Papashan. "Well, you're safe and found, and that's what I was tasked with. I'll stay if you command it, but if it isn't my place to stay then I won't."

Huffing softly, the Lalafell looked slightly relieved that both men only had the best of intentions and were sent by people with the same, but Lysander saw the stubborn streak of nobility rise up. "I do not recall asking for an escort! Simply pretend we never met and continue on your way."

Shaking his head, Thancred tapped the device on his shoulder. "We both know I can do no such thing. It isn't safe for you here alone. Hells, it isn't safe for anyone, not with this aetheric disturbance... It's as though the dead are watching us, and I'd prefer not to join them, if it's all the same to you." He saw that Lysander's focus had shifted and glanced about warily. "What is it?"

Lysander had been idly keeping an ear out for trouble, just in case, but it wasn't sound that got his attention, something pricked at his _aether_ of all things, and his head snapped around to seek its source. Thancred had been alerted similarly, and both of them had a hand on a dagger as they pressed themselves against the walls on opposite sides, moving toward the entrance to the alcove. The aether in the area shifted and pulsed, and with a swirl of dark shadow a strange, flapping beast coalesced into being. "Voidsent," Thancred hissed, and drew his weapons when three more manifested. "Looks like the stationmaster will have to wait. I assume you're ready for a fight?" asked the other Rogue, and Lysander chuckled darkly, drawing his own weapons.

"I came prepared for one, but not expecting it. This is a bit outside of my expertise, I'm used to beastkin and people. Still, let's see how these things fare against steel!"

Like the shadows that had birthed them, the creatures moved silently toward the two men, becoming more corporeal as they absorbed the ambient aether. As such, Lysander's knife cut a deep, clean cut across one wing, making it flap haphazardly to stay aloft, and the next strike was enough to undo the magics that kept it in existence. It vanished the same way that it had appeared, and he made short work of the second one. Thancred had also dispatched two, and he sighed with frustration as more appeared. "More friends, lovely. This definitely isn't normal, shouldn't there be a-"

"Summoner!" hissed Lysander, gesturing to a robed, hooded figure that now blocked the entrance to the alcove. Heavy robes in black leather should have been stifling in this heat, but the person under them showed no sign of discomfort, though it was difficult to tell behind the red mask that obscured all but their mouth, which was twisted in a delighted grin. "Kill the summoner and you kill the summons. You take care of these things!" Before Thancred could agree or protest, Lysander took a deep breath and ducked into the shadows, moving as quickly as he could without losing his stealth. Thankfully, the summoner hadn't noticed him and was busy calling up more creatures, and more types than just the simple, flying ones. This needed to end _now_. Ducking behind the robed person, he gripped both daggers firmly and stabbed _hard_ , on both sides right where the person's kidneys should be. Even if he didn't hit exactly, it would still be excruciatingly painful, and that would disrupt the summoner's focus enough for his purposes. His aim was true, and the robed person screamed in pain, staggering from the twin strikes. Before Lysander could attack again, he felt the crystal in his shirt pulse and grow warm again, at the same time that his head throbbed painfully. He swore and lost his footing, dropping a dagger as he pressed a hand to his temple. Was this some sort of retaliatory magic, or-

The sensation flared again, and he collapsed, blacking out.

_HEAR..._

_FEEL..._

_THINK..._

Gritting his teeth, Lysander blinked and pushed himself to a sitting position, trying to get his bearings and remember what had happened. He-

That's right, he had been searching for the sultana, and he'd found her, and someone else that apparently she knew, then-

He looked around and saw that there was no trace of summoner or voidsent, and that Thancred and the sultana were discussing something casually, so apparently whatever had happened was over without any complications. Save his own. Grimacing, Lysander retrieved his daggers, pausing when he noticed that they were clean. That was impossible, he had struck deep and accurately, and even if some had come off from being withdrawn through that robe, there should have surely been _some_ blood. But there was none at all anywhere. As he put away his weapons Thancred strolled over and offered a hand to help him up. "An overabundance of aether, I suppose, you fainted just after you got in a damn fine strike on that robed man, and when he vanished so did his minions."

"Aether my _arse_ ," Lysander growled, "that bloody crystal is at it again. Not sure why I keep the damn thing around, these dreams are a bother."

Thancred's grin grew frozen and lopsided. "...Crystal? Dreams? You don't mean..."

Withdrawing the crystal from inside of his shirt, Lysander offered it up for inspection. "Can't remember when or where I found it, I've just had it for the last few years. Probably is the reason I can't remember things, either, I've got giant holes going back the last six or seven years, but I just can't find the strength to get rid of it. Stupid as it sounds, it feels important, like it's part of me or my past or something, even though I've no fucking idea what it is."

Completely ignoring the casual profanity, Thancred brushed the crystal with his fingertips, almost reverently, then glanced up at Lysander with a serious look. "This is... Beyond my knowledge and skill. But I know someone for whom it is. This...changes many things..." Folding his arms across his chest, he looked away as he thought about something, then met Lysander's gaze again. "Will you be in Ul'dah long?"

This was unexpected, and he shrugged, tucking away the pendant and fixing the laces of his shirt again. "A couple of days, yeah. Just looking for a bit of pocket money to cover a few things before I go take care of some personal business. After that..." He shrugged again. "I've been going where wind and whims take me lately, so if you know someone who can figure out what the seven hells is up with me then I'm all ears. I'm staying at the Quicksand, so if I don't catch you sooner then I'll be having a drink and a meal there later tonight."

"Good. I must needs report this, as such I shall leave Lady Lilira in your capable hands."

Storming over, the sultana jabbed an indignant finger at Thancred. "How dare you pass me about like a swaddled babe! I shall return and tell them myself!"

Thancred and Lysander exchanged a look, already knowing what the other was thinking, and nodded. With a bow and a salute, respectively, both men stepped aside and back, allowing her to pass, and with another shared glance and a smile, the both of them stepped into the shadows and became unnoticeable once again.

It was a bit of a walk back, and Lysander had to maintain a slower pace to stay hidden, but the much shorter stride of his charge made it easy for him to keep up. Upon arriving at the Dispatch Yard the disguised Sultansworn and Papashan were unable to conceal their collective relief, and the stationmaster rushed forward to clasp her hands in his. "Thank the gods you've returned! You had us all so worried! You do realize what would happen if a person of your noble stature were to be injured- or worse?"

Smiling to himself, Lysander hooked his thumbs in his belt and continued to watch quietly as the sultana sighed and nodded, looking somewhat remorseful. "But I have already given you cause to weep, Papashan...you and the people of Ul'dah..."

"Please, Your- You're not to say such things! We will find it, I swear to you! It is not my place to make demands, m-my lady, but I beg you, please stay out of harm's way."

Frowning, Lysander folded his arms across his chest. Find what? Oh dear, this was much deeper than just the sultana going out in disguise for a lark. She nodded again, looking tired but determined. "...I apologize for causing you undue worry, Papashan. I shall refrain from traveling unescorted in future."

This seemed as good a time as any to quit skulking about, and he let his focus drop, allowing himself to be noticed again. "I'm quite grateful for that, my lady, I can't guarantee that I'll be in the area next time." He couldn't help but grin as he was suddenly ringed by pointed steel as every guard drew their weapon on him simultaneously. "Hello again! We're back and safely so!"

Papashan reacted nearly the same that Thancred had done earlier, and like earlier, the sultana was surprised but retained her dignity, giving him a flat glare that was somewhat ruined by the way her lips turned up at the corners. "So it seems, lad, and you have my unending gratitude for it."

"I'll just take a writ for payment and get out of your hair," Lysander chuckled, then paused and tapped a finger to his lips. "Though I _did_ overhear you mention finding something. Probably none of my damn business, but I _was_ in the business of biting back bitten baubles." He couldn't help giggling at himself for the alliterative use of Rogue's speak, and waved his hands to his unamused audience. "Ah, local dialect. That is, we specialized in not only tracking down but retrieving stolen items. And _discreetly_ so."

Everyone present glared at him silently, and Papashan and the sultana stepped aside to have a quiet, whispered conversation. An agreement was reached, and Papashan regarded him with a deadly serious look. "By all rights we should be clapping you in chains, but... You've proven trustworthy so far, and we've got no other recourse. But! What is said to you will never be shared with anyone else, got it?"

Holding up his hands again, Lysander smiled, looking relieved. "On my honor, I promise. Whatever it is must be perilous or important or there wouldn't be this level of secrecy."

"Very well." He scribbled something on a slip of paper and handed it over. "Take this to Momodi and she'll square you away for the work you've done. All of it. And she'll fill you in on what we'll need you to do." Tucking away the paper, Lysander offered the salute again and took the reins of a chocobo that were handed to him, swinging into the saddle with practiced ease. As he wrapped the scarf around his head, Papashan sighed again and looked up at him with gratitude. "And...thank you, Lysander."

"It's the right thing to do, sir, that's why I do it." He nudged the bird with his heels and settled into the ride back to the city, chuckling to himself. Today had gotten very interesting _very_ quickly and was only going to be more so. He was looking forward to it, he was in the mood for a little excitement and adventure. This reminded him of Thancred, who he _knew_ he had not only met before, but had worked alongside, and more than once. The way that they had moved together in combat like that, and how they both knew what the other was thinking when the sultana took her leave. He had also had to resist the urge to hug him, too, like it was just reflex at that point. He frowned and sighed, putting it aside for now to consider later. Thancred appeared to have thought the same, and he was reporting up to _someone_ , as well as someone who knew something about that crystal that he carried. Maybe by tonight he would have an answer of some sort. This perked him up again, as he was looking forward to talking with Thancred again, about anything, really, he _was_ kinda handsome, and Lysander hadn't had the chance to sit and really talk with anyone in ages. Today was just getting better!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.//


	3. Intrigue, Insight, Inspiration, and Introspection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Awright, now we're really getting into the meat of the story. And after going through GarlondTools and copying out the dialogue and journal entries, OOF, I will be cutting out a LOT of content. All of that faffing-about-fetching-shit stuff? Nope. We're here to kill primals and kick Garlemald out of Eorzea, I don't have time to screw around with getting aldgoat horns or delivering fish. :)
> 
> I'm also super keen to see how well his weapon/power set is received, as he blends like three fighting styles together at first, and as he meets the Scions and other major NPCs picks up other abilities. I promise that there's a reason for this, and not "wish-fulfillment Gary Stu." XD//

The ride back to Ul'dah was pleasantly uneventful, and Lysander dismounted when his chocobo finally stopped back at the kitchens to the Quicksand. Handing over the reins, he removed the scarf again and tied it to his belt as he trotted inside. Momodi was still at her customary spot, and he smiled pleasantly as he removed the paper that had been given to him. "H'lo, luv, I'm finally back. Looks like I'll be needed a bit more, though."

With a concerned frown, she took the paper from him, read it, blinked, then read it again. Crumpling it in her fist, she grimaced and sighed. "So it's come to this. Nothing for it, I suppose." Fixing him with a serious look, she put the paper in a pocket and put her fists on her hips. "So, boy, what do you know of the leadership of Ul'dah?"

Lysander grinned and rested his weight on his arms on the counter, pulling some coin out of his pocket. "Oh, it's that sort of thing, is it? Here, I need a drink anyway, and it'll look less suspicious if I'm actually buying something. Make it look like you're giving me directions." He pulled over a map that was partially tucked under a couple of ledgers within reach, spreading it out in front of them. "Now, leadership? Everyone knows that the sultana is the ruling head of the city, makes the laws, keeps the peace, all of that. Ah, thanks, luv." He took a grateful drink of the cold beer and sighed happily. Leaning over the map, he pretended to trace a route as he talked. "That's what everyone will say, mind you, but anyone who's lived here, and especially those who deal in trade know that it's the Syndicate who run everything. _Everything_. The sultana is mostly a figurehead, someone to keep the populace happy and be a symbol of blah blah all of that." He glanced up and sipped his drink. "What shenanigans are they up to this time?"

She puffed out her cheeks and made a face at him, but was trying not to laugh at the same time. "You're almost too smart for your own good. Well, we can't prove it's them this time, not even sure if it _is_ , but I wouldn't put it past them. Something has been stolen and we need to get it back as fast and quietly as possible."

Taking another long drink, Lysander exhaled gratefully, swirling the half remaining as he prodded the map. "Then you've got the right man, that's my expertise. Can I ask what it is or is it one of those things that the less I know about it the better? I'm not bothered if I lack the clearance to know, and it could be one of those situations where plausible deniability keeps us all safe."

"Right again. Still..." It was her turn to sigh as she leaned over the map, making it look like she was correcting his directions. "It's the crown jewels." Lysander paused mid-sip, not expecting anything like this, then nodded for her to continue as he drained his mug and pulled out coin for another. "They were stolen and we don't know who. Suffice it to say, the Sultansworn are in a state of panic, worried that word will get out. We think we have a lead on who might have done it, but we can't exactly send out a military force to meet them, especially since we've no idea how someone got into the vault in the first place."

"Hmm, inside job." He sipped the fresh drink, able to savor it now that his thirst had been dealt with, then ran his finger around the rim as he thought. "Either turncoat or blackmail, though one can't rule out clever disguises to pass as a guard or just being able to sneak in undetected. Still, that's a bit of a stretch, as I don't know much about the Sultansworn, but they are a _very_ elite force within the city and are pretty much hand-picked, knowing each other very closely. Being able to pass as someone else would be a challenge even for a master. And getting both in and out unnoticed would be something that even V'kebbe would find difficult." Grimacing, he almost forgot his cover activity and sipped again, putting his chin in his hand as he gestured with his mug to a random spot on the map. "I doubt I'd be let inside or close enough to look for clues, and it's not likely I'd find anything anyway, as it's been too long and your best people have already picked it over with the finest of combs."

"Right on all points, except..." Momodi rubbed her chin thoughtfully, and Lysander made a noise of inquiry. "Now that you mention it, the guard on watch when the theft happened _did_ mention something. Someone in dark, hooded robes, but that was dismissed as a flight of fancy, or for some, a lie to cover something up." It was her turn to make that noise when Lysander suddenly stared off at nothing.

"...Hunh. That's... Stupid question, but did he describe that person wearing a mask as well?"

"Erm, you know, now that you mention it, he did. Why?"

Draining his drink and setting the mug down heavily, Lysander pushed it and another coin over for another refill. "I was wrong, it wasn't an inside job, and I think I had a run-in with that bloke, or someone like him. When I got tasked with tracking down...the Lady, Thancred and I got attacked by- What's that look for?"

"Thancred was there, too?"

Lysander looked somewhat poleaxed and almost knocked over the fresh drink when it was pushed over. "You know him? ...Stupid question, of course you would, he's the same sort I am."

"I'm what the same as you are?" asked a slightly-familiar voice, and Lysander half-turned to see the Hyur in question striding over. "Hello again, I didn't expect to find you here so soon. Discussing details of great import, I assume? I'll leave you to your own-"

"The hell you will, we need to talk, and out of range of prying ears," Lysander interrupted, getting a surprised look from both of his companions, "Momodi, hate to be a bother, but any way I can get a meal sent to my room? Enough for two, I want Thancred in on this, and I know he can be trusted with it because, well..." Running his hand through asymmetric, slightly messy bangs, he sighed heavily. "I trust him. Don't ask me how or why, but I _know_ that we know each other from somewhere else, and that I trusted him with my life. That's not something I say or do lightly. Grab yourself a drink, mate, it's on me."

The other man chuckled and gave him a wry grin. "That's usually my line, though also usually for fairer company. Still, I'll play along, and for what it's worth you don't seem to have attracted any undue attention. So whomever it is that's involved doesn't know that you are as well. Still, no sense in being careless."

Putting his chin in his hand again, Lysander gave him a flirty smile, now changing up the act to look like he was propositioning the new arrival, and Thancred leaned closer, pretending to be interested in such advances. "I can't remember who the hell you are but i just know I'm going to enjoy working with you again. It's so nice to have a professional at my side, and watching my back."

Momodi pushed a drink at Thancred and rolled up the map, setting it atop the ledgers it had been under a bit ago. "I'll have something sent over as fast as I can, then, you two work out the details and then let me know your plan." A small envelope was slid over to him, blocked by his and Thancred's bodies from anyone else who might see it, and with a skilled bit of sleight-of-hand, the envelope was slipped inside of his shirt. "Burn that after reading. I really shouldn't do that, but..."

"It would be suspicious for me to keep standing here talking when I have someone attractive and attracted right here, right?" grinned the copper-haired man, pushing away from the counter and picking up his drink, "no, I understand, and I'll destroy everything the moment I'm done. Shall we?" This last comment was directed at Thancred, offering a hand, and the other Rogue took it to kiss it, actually earning a small, honest blush for it. "Ooh, classy. I like you."

Drinks in one hand and holding each others' with the other, they strolled down the hall, making small talk, until they got to Lysander's room. He unlocked it, let them both in, closed the door, then darted to the table to put down his drink to search the room. Thancred did the same, and after a few minutes they sat down, satisfied that they could converse unobserved and unheard. Pulling out the envelope, Lysander opened it and began to scan the information inside, sitting close enough for Thancred to do the same. Several more minutes passed as they read everything a couple of times, then sat back to consider everything.

Thancred picked up his mug and sipped it, looking thoughtful as he stared at the liquid inside. "I was just investigating excess aether and anomalies, but this... I think you're right, this does tie into my investigations. And you stumbled across this by accident because you volunteered to go take lunch to a group of guards for some pocket change." He snorted dryly as he took another sip. "Either you've got the craziest luck I've ever seen or the gods have decided to be useful and help out for once."

About to reply, Lysander was interrupted by a knock at the door and got up to answer it. Both of them were on alert, but not outwardly so, and when it was just the kitchen staff delivering the lunch he had requested, Lysander gave them a grin and a wink with his thanks before closing the door behind himself. "And I'm only in town to pay my respects anyroad, I just decided to do a few things for some coin before that because it tends to pay well here. Being local means I can do a lot of the stuff that other adventurers wouldn't be able to, especially with my profession." Setting down the tray, Lysander grabbed a piece of sliced cheese and wrapped a bit of thinly-sliced dried meat around it, nibbling slowly to keep himself from eating too fast. "So. A stolen heirloom by some person, or persons, who also tried to attack the- ...The person to whom they belong. But no ransom note, no demands, no nothing. Hmm, I wonder if that was supposed to happen soon and we got in the way?"

Nodding, Thancred chose to put his meat and cheese on a cracker as he re-read the information again. "I agree. The timing lines up, and that _would_ be a massive blow to the sultanate and the Sultansworn. Our intervention has likely altered their plans, whomever they are. Since that hooded man can teleport that would explain how he was able to get away once he got into the vault."

It was Lysander's turn to nod as he tried a different combination of meat, cheese, and bread. "Well, until we get direction about where to go we might as well enjoy a bit of a nosh. I admit, I'm at a loss as to where to try and track this person down. Or these people, if there's more than one. Well, okay, there's definitely a group of sorts behind this, I just mean that damn summoner."

"Agreed. I'm of the opinion that the Syndicate is behind it all, but who the intermediaries are is the real question, and to _that_ point, whether or not we can connect it all and make a case against someone. Sadly, they're clever bastards and will have as few ties as possible and any that do exist will be likely so tenuous that they'll have plausible deniability."

"As you said, agreed." Taking another sip, Lysander put his chin in his hand again and stared at Thancred with puzzled determination. When the other man gave him a funny look and asked him what was wrong Lysander sighed and frowned. "Nothing's wrong. Except my memory. I _know_ we have worked together in the past, and not just one-off, we were, well, partners somewhere. I've only had this synergy with the other Rogues, and everything is just too damn familiar." 

Lips twisting in an annoyed grimace, Thancred picked up his drink and took a swig. "It's driving me mad as well. I've been thinking about it ever since we left the Sultantree and I can't place the how or why, either. Further, I can't shake this odd feeling that at some point we..." He paused and glanced at Lysander again. "...We were lovers at one point," he rushed quietly, taking a long, slow drink to hide behind.

"Okay, so it's not just me being my usual lecherous self," the Rogue replied, putting aside his own drink and setting his chin on folded arms on the tabletop. "Like, not like we were in love or anything, just companions with benefits when no other options were available. Hnnnngh... If we weren't potentially getting dispatched again later I'd be drinking myself stupid because this is annoying the shit out of me. And it would keep you safe from my advances, too."

This got an honest, hearty laugh from Thancred. "Oh really now! You make it sound like you had planned on seducing me from the start!"

"Well, a little, sorta. You're attractive and I've not been laid in ages, but I never, _ever_ shag when even lightly buzzed. Consent can't be properly given and I won't hurt anyone like that. That, and when you're sloshed it's hard to get it up, so you just end up pushing rope while your balls hurt." He snickered when this got another full laugh out of his companion, who had dropped the slice of cheese he had grabbed. "In any case, if I'm so desperate, I can go hit the pleasure houses and pay for a bit of fun. Though, honestly I..." With a deep sigh he put his face in his arms, sagging a little. "I just want a hug. Laugh all you want, I won't mind. I've always been a bit touch-starved, and just...being able to curl up with someone at night, even if I never get up to anything naughty, I need that more than anything else."

There was a moment of silence from the other man, and Lysander remained where he was, trying to hide the embarrassed flush that almost went to his ears. He did glance up when he heard the sound of a chair being moved closer, and sat up with surprise when Thancred put an arm around his shoulders. "I think that I can provide at least this for the moment."

Relaxing into him, Lysander smiled and reached up to squeeze his hand. "Thanks, that helps a lot. I've always been needy like that, and it only got worse when they-" He cut himself off and cleared his throat, reaching for a slice of meat. When Thancred prompted him to continue, he paused and toyed with the snack before closing his eyes and sagging. "I... I come back once a year, like I said, to pay my respects. ...My parents. It's my fault that they're gone and... I'll never be able to make up for it, but..." Dropping the meat back on the tray he turned and hugged Thancred around the chest, burying his face in the other man's shoulder. "...Sorry. Been ten years and it still hurts like the first day."

Before he could pull away Thancred hugged him back, squeezing gently. "I understand. Some burdens can't be forgotten or atoned for. We just...offer what penance we can."

They sat there for a minute or two silently until Lysander squeezed his companion back and sat up. "Thanks, luv, that helped a lot. Heh, what do you say I play wingman to you tonight, help you find someone cute and busty to make up for having to put up with me? Or are you the sort who prefers them petite?"

Cuffing Lysander's shoulder playfully, Thancred retrieved his snack the same time that Lysander had his own. "All women are beautiful in their own way and I appreciate them as such. And while I rarely need assistance in procuring a companion for the evening I accept your offer. Provided, of course, we can find someone that suits _your_ taste." He left the statement dangling, giving Lysander the chance to chime in with his own preferences, and the Rogue grinned at him as he finished the momentarily-discarded meat.

"I'm attracted to anyone attractive, I'm easy. Though like I said, I'll just pay for my needs tonight. Might as well spend a bit of coin where it could be useful, and there's no expectations afterward. Just a business transaction and they're done with me."

"...You want more than that, don't you?..."

Lysander didn't answer immediately, looking away for a moment before grabbing his mug. "...Yeah, I do. But I'm not worth loving so it doesn't matter." He quickly chugged his drink to forestall further questions and Thancred let the matter drop, seeing a painful issue that wasn't his business. After an awkward silence they resumed their meal, and after a few minutes they felt comfortable enough to converse again. "For what it's worth, though, if you don't have any other place for some reason tonight you're free to stay with me here. The bed's wide enough for us to have a bit of space, and I promise to behave myself. Not sure if you've got your own place or plans, just offering in case we don't end up learning anything more today."

This made sense, and Thancred thanked him for it, finishing his own drink. "I'm not always successful in my attempts to procure a bed mate, though you'll not hear me admit that outside of this room. Anyroad..." He cleared his throat and took some more food, reading over their information one last time before shrugging with defeat. "Well, again, doesn't seem to be anything we can do until more news comes in."

Lysander got up, taking the papers with him, then knelt by the fireplace. ""Mm, yeah. Well, I figure she'll send for us if and when she hears about something, so I might as well stay put here." He put the papers in the fireplace, then snapped his fingers to produce a small flame, which he used to ignite them before standing up again, smiling when Thancred complimented his little trick. "It's been a bit of a long trip out here and then a bit of excitement. I'm going to drop off for a nap, feel free to join me if you like, but if you're not tired or comfortable with it I'm not bothered." He returned to the table to finish his lunch, leaving the last couple of pieces for his companion as he leaned over to undo and remove his boots, tossing them over by the bed. His back to the other man, he undid the laces on his shirt and pulled it off over his head, smirking over his shoulder. "I'll keep my trousers on, for your comfort." Smiling at the laugh he got, he went to the other side of the bed and flopped onto it on his side, his back to the rest of the room.

"Not a bad idea," Thancred replied, "who knows how and when things will go from here, might as well be rested, and after all of the running about I've done as well a bit of a kip would do wonders."

Lysander heard the sound of leather and fabric rustling and yawned while he made himself comfortable atop the covers. "Well, like I said, there's plenty of room for both of us, you should be able to stretch out as you need to."

He felt the bed shift when Thancred joined him, fully expecting that to be it, but was surprised to feel his companion press up behind him, throwing an arm over his waist. "I don't mind, and it sounds like you could use this. Like you said, I promise to behave myself."

Huffing a chuckle, Lysander took Thancred's hand and kissed it, pressing it to his chest. "Now, I never said _you_ had to do the same! ...Still, thanks. I can't describe just how much I need _this_." His companion didn't reply, but there was no need to. With a satisfied smile, Lysander let himself drift off, aided by decent food, drink, and company.

Some time later he woke up, slightly bleary as he tried to reconcile his surroundings. For a moment there was confusion, but then he smiled to himself again, remembering where he was and who he was with. Thancred was still asleep, and now Lysander was hesitant to get up, not wanting to wake him. A knock at the door did that, however, and Lysander got up to answer it while Thancred rolled over and yawned, propping himself up on his elbows as he likewise took a moment to parse where he was and what had happened. Opening the door just a little, one of the staff at the Quicksand opened her mouth to say something, then noticed the state of both men and blushed to her hairline. Grinning, Lysander winked at her. "You caught us at a good time, luv. What can I do for you?"

"Ah... Um..." Clearing her throat, she composed herself and started again. "Mistress Momodi has a missive for you when you aren't...busy..."

"Oh! Well, I'll not keep her waiting. Thanks, let her know we'll be just a minute or two." She stammered acknowledgement and hurried off, leaving Lysander to chuckle softly as he closed the door, turning around to see Thancred flopped on his back, an arm over his eyes as he grinned weakly. "I certainly hope that this hasn't tarnished your reputation."

"You say that like I've got one that isn't already ruined," replied the other man as he got up, "and I'm hardly embarrassed for myself, I'm always concerned for the sake of my partner." He realized what he had implied and nearly missed catching his shirt when Lysander threw it to him.

"Well, I've not got one either, and I'm concerned for the same, so I think that we're doing quite alright." He pulled his shirt back on over his head, retrieved his boots, and sat down to put them on. Lacing up his boots he stood again, then did the same for his shirt, turning around to see that Thancred was likewise dressed and ready to go. "Want to split up, just in case?" He grabbed the empty tray and put the mugs on it while Thancred opened the door, and set it down outside to be collected.

"A good idea, I'll keep an eye out for trouble while you see what it is she's found for us."

Straightening up, Lysander leaned against the wall and smiled at him, getting an arched eyebrow in reply. "Nothing. Just...this all feels so comfortable and familiar." He leaned over and grinned. "I wonder if a kiss would help me remember more?" He laughed when Thancred put a hand in his face and pushed him away, chuckling and shaking his head. "No worries, I'm joking. I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable. And if I do, well, tell me or hit me over the head or something. For now, see you in a bit." He grinned again when Thancred vanished from view as the both of them made their way back to the common room. Strolling up to the main counter, Lysander leaned against it, resting his weight on his elbows behind himself as he gazed around the room, looking relaxed.

"You two were right," Momodi murmured, reaching for something in a stack of ledgers behind the Hyur, getting close enough to talk casually without being obvious, "we've been tracking a number of things, and wouldn't you just know it, a letter came in addressed to the guard assigned to the vault the night of the theft."

"Interesting," remarked Lysander, crossing one ankle over the other, "probably their demands or the like. I highly doubt it's going to be an apology for it all and an offer to return things no questions asked." He resisted a smile when she snorted with dark amusement. "So you want us to go with someone to talk to him?"

"No, I want you two alone to talk to him. Discretely. Try not to spook the poor boy, he's a good sort but easily excitable, and he's already been grilled up and down by the Sultansworn so there's nothing new that they'll be able to get out of him. B'sides, you're the sort who know the _right_ questions to ask." She slid over a letter, concealing it behind shifting another couple of ledgers, and Lysander took it and managed to hide it up the back of his shirt somehow. "His name's Owyne, and if anyone asks your business, use 'jewel of the desert' as your passphrase."

Yawning and stretching his arms over his head, he glanced at the clock on the wall. "On it, luv, hopefully we'll have good news for you soon." With his thumbs hooked in his belt he left out the west door, strolling south along the Ruby Road Exchange, making his way to The Gold Court. He paused by a fountain in the shade to pull a slim metal case out of a pocket on his thigh, extracting a slim, dark cigarillo smelling of rolanberry. Putting away the case he put the stick to his lips and snapped his fingers like before, conjuring the same dancing flame, lit it, then took a long drag off of it and exhaled slowly. "I'm not walking too fast for you, am I? I'm not that much taller than you, but you _are_ being sneaky and all."

"Not at all," replied a soft voice from a not-shadow next to him, "and I caught everything, well as verified that we still aren't being tracked. So either we're fantastically lucky or whomever is responsible for this is terrifyingly skilled."

"Mm. My thoughts, too. Well, onward, then." He resumed his leisurely walk in the circularly-laid-out streets, following the path to the Hustings Strip, which continued in wide arcs that sloped upward and eventually turned into carpeted steps. By the time he was at the Royal Promenade his cigarillo was spent, and he incinerated the last of it on his palm before letting the ashes drift off on the wind. The two guards that blocked the rest of the way watched him with casual alertness, which became professional alertness when he approached. "H'lo! Hate to bother, but may I speak with Owyne? Urgent business. I'm a treasure hunter, hoping he can tell me more about the jewel of the desert and all." Both guards reached for the swords at their hips, then shared a glance, nodding after a moment. Thancred detached himself from the shadows and approached, though from an angle that the guards wouldn't have seen him un-stealth. "Ah, there you are! The both of us are, actually, he was just following up on a lead."

One guard put a hand to their ear, activating their linkpearl, and messaged their superior officer. The two Hyuran men waited patiently while a conversation happened quietly but emphatically, and after a minute he nodded to them. "Right, you're allowed to pass. Behave yourselves, or else."

As directed, they continued down the Promenade and were directed to a very worried looking Hyur, who was definitely a year or two younger than them and whose armor and hair were a rather rumpled mess. Extracting the letter with a flourish, Lysander smiled warmly and offered it. "Owyne, I presume. Hey mate, this came in for you, and Momodi sent us to help you out."

Gawping at them, the young Sultansworn hesitated before taking the letter in shaking hands, nearly ripping it as he opened the envelope. His eyes went wide as he read it a second time, and handed it over when Lysander tilted his head to the side curiously. "This theft shames the Sultansworn, and me most of all." He sighed and ran his hands through his hair as the Rogues took their turn reading and examining the letter. "The blame is mine, you see. I grew lax in my duties, and in a moment of carelessness..."

"You might have been a little careless, aye, but if we're right, then no matter who it was guarding that night they'd not have been able to do a damn thing," Thancred replied, glancing up, "and with recent unexpected events on our part it looks like we might have messed with their plans. So they demand a ransom, do they?"

With a deeper sigh, Owyne sagged and collapsed into a chair that was thankfully nearby. "Though it pains me to say it, I fear I have no choice but to acquiesce to their demands. Too much is at stake to do otherwise. The crown symbolizes Her Grace's birthright, and identifies her as the custodian of the Ul legacy. It must be recovered."

"And we'll get it back, but we're not paying a damn ransom," Lysander huffed, and at the shocked look from the Sultansworn he grinned fiercely. "Oh, we'll be there alright, and we'll take back the crown ourselves and pay them back in full for what they've done."

"You...would be present for the exchange? I am not foolish enough to meet these men alone as they stipulate, but I dare not bring a host of my comrades lest the thieves take fright."

Once more, Thancred and Lysander had a fast, silent conversation, and the copper-haired man grinned. "Aye, we'll still make sure a pack of guards are present, but we'll need them to circle around and hide. I'll go with you directly and confront the thieves in the open. We might be able to get away with a quick, covert operation, but I'll bet good coin that they're not planning to make an honest deal and we'll have to beat both answers and crown out of them."

With one last glance at the letter, Thancred folded it up and put it back in the envelope. "I'll take this to your captain and work out the logistics of not only getting a squad out there quickly, but without being noticed. You two are going to be off now, then?"

Lysander folded his arms across his chest and leaned against a pillar, doing some mental math. "Yeah, we need to get going so I can scout out the location and maybe some intel there. Damn, I don't have a way to contact you, do you-"

"Ahead of you, mate," Thancred chuckled, pulling a linkpearl out of a belt pouch, "I always carry a couple extra just in case. I'll let you know if something goes wrong, but otherwise I'll stay silent until the time for the exchange."

Taking a moment to secure the linkpearl and ensure it worked, Lysander nodded. "Agreed, if you don't hear from me then things are going to plan. Right, Owyne, let's get that sack of gil. I've no intention of handing it over, but we will need to make a good faith effort to see if they actually brought the crown or if it's a setup."

Looking a little more confident but still shaken, Owyne got to his feet, leading the way to the vault where they could obtain what they needed. Fifteen minutes later they were on a chocobo leaving Ul'dah, on their way to Central Thanalan, to a little spot called the "Unholy Heir." Owyne had never heard of it, but Lysander and Thancred had, and knew exactly how they could turn the situation to their favor. They rode silently; the Sultansworn focused on their mission and destination, and the Rogue for any trouble on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.//


	4. A Crowning Achievement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Yes, it's time for some _real_ action! Not that faffing about last chapter, it's time for a proper fight! And a bit of sass, as Lysander has found that making one's enemy angry tends to make them a bit distracted and sloppy. ...It's backfired a few times and nearly gotten his ass kicked, but still, it's a tactic that hasn't failed him (too often)! Also, this is where stuff is gonna start getting naughty, which is why we're all here, really. I'm not going to lie to myself or you, it's the _real_ reason we write/read fanfics, isn't it? XD//

After a few minutes of riding Lysander chuckled and patted Owyne's shoulder. "Mate, rein it in a little, we need to give time for the others to get into place, and we're not to meet up for a bit yet."

"I know, I just..." The Sultansworn sighed and gripped the reins tightly, though he did slow their mount to a brisk walk. "I am scared, yet it must be done, to restore my honor and that of the Sultansworn. I... I am glad for your company, though I fear you will be harmed should it come to a fight."

Laughing warmly, Lysander held out an arm for the other man to see, gestured with a flourish, and laughed when Owyne gasped to see a dagger appear in his hand apparently from out of nowhere. "Mate, no offense, but you are more likely to be harmed in a fight. I'm a Rogue, this is what I do. We seek out people who have stolen something and steal that item back. Sometimes it ends up in a fight, and we always win. And most of the time we're dealing with pirates, they're nasty bastards at the best of times. No, this won't be easy, but it'll be a simple enough affair to resolve. Don't worry, Thancred is also a professional, and between all of us we'll have those thieves regretting their decisions by lunch time." He hugged the paladin from behind, which was a bit awkward since he was in full plate, but the gesture was noticed and welcome, and Owyne relaxed visibly. "And the two of us have had a scuffle with the one who likely stole the crown from the vault in the first place, and he chose to run rather than fight us, so I feel very good about our chances. Here, keep us on the path, I'll keep an eye out for trouble, okay? Take this time to focus."

His words seemed to do the trick, and Owyne nodded, finally smiling a little, and did as asked, ensuring that they stayed on the road north through Central Thanalan. Their destination slowly came into view over the rather flat terrain, and Lysander looked everywhere but there, expecting tricks or treachery. He was pleasantly surprised to not immediately notice anything, but at the same time, it had him concerned, as something of this nature and magnitude definitely warranted more than a simple band of ruffians who had run off with shiny baubles to be dealt with by the Brass Blades. Briefly, he considered getting sneaky, but knew that the man with him needed the confidence of someone standing with him. Besides, he had a good feeling that Thancred would take care of stealth duty if the mission called for it, it just seemed like something that they'd done before. Frowning to himself, he allowed himself a moment to try to remember. Something itched at the back of his mind, like something locked up that was trying to be let out, but no matter how hard he examined it there was no key to be found. He pushed aside these thoughts for later, intending to talk to Thancred about it, very sure that the fellow Rogue would say the same thing.

Eventually, Owyne reined them in completely, once again gripping tightly while Lysander dismounted before handing them over to do so himself. He glanced down into the crevasse where the meeting was to take place and blanched. "This is a terrible place for a meeting! It's perfect for an ambush!"

"Exactly, and we're using that to our advantage. Had they chosen a more public place it would have been hard to try and apprehend them without involving civilians, but here? I can already see where a few of your cohorts have circled around. No, don't look, don't give it away, but it does tell me that our timing is good and the plan is still intact. C'mon, let's go, it's time. Just pretend it's only us, don't even think about your allies, and focus on trying to get back the crown. Leave the subterfuge to the rest of us."

Patting the chocobo on the neck, he secured the reins on its saddle and hooked his thumbs in his belt, strolling down the sloped path to the meeting place by the stream that flowed through the center of the former mining quarry. After a moment of hesitation, Owyne followed, carefully picking his way down the rock-strewn route. Lysander whistled softly to himself, once again scanning everything within sight for danger. Still nothing. He didn't like that, but he also didn't let it show. Reaching the bottom, he yawned and stretched his arms over his head, lacing his fingers together and shifting his weight to one leg. A bit of movement atop the ridge caught his eye, but it was one of the Sultansworn getting into place. Damn, he hoped that nobody else had noticed it. Thankfully, they had not, as finally their quarry appeared from the quarry, out of one of the tunnels that led underground. They must have been waiting there for quite a while, or perhaps had supplies in there and this was their hideout.

Owyne was nervous, but to his credit he tried to hide it as he drew himself up to his full height and strode out to meet the ransomers. “I've come as agreed! Now, show me the crown!”

A large figure in hooded robes moved ahead of the group, and Lysander scrutinized him quickly, then huffed softly with disappointment that it was not the one that he was looking for; the previous person was likely a Hyur like himself, this man wore robes in brown and had the build of a Roegadyn. Folding his arms across his chest, the Roe grinned darkly. “Aye, you'll have your precious crown. Once we've been duly compensated.”

“Do you think me a fool!? What assurance have I that you will honor your part of the agreement?” The Sultansworn maintained his composure despite his nerves, and Lysander smiled to himself as he idly took in all details of their environment and the group in front of him. It all seemed to be going well so far, and he saw the way his eyes tried to slide past something and almost didn’t suppress a laugh in time; Thancred was stealthed and moving toward the leader, barely leaving footprints or disturbing the ankle-deep water. He was good.

The robed man snorted, looking smugly confident. “Now, now, Owyne, you're the least trustworthy man here. Not only was the crown stolen on your watch, but it looks to me as if you've violated the terms of our exchange. Did we not say that you were to come alone?” He pointed an accusatory finger at Lysander, who rolled his eyes and yawned. “And given that you are not alone, what guarantee have we that there isn't a company of archers surrounding us even as we speak, ready to feather me and my men the moment they catch a glimpse of the crown? You have made mock of our trust. The deal is off.”

Thancred was in position now, and Lysander shifted his weight to his other leg, doing a mental inventory of all of his own weapons, idly watching Owyne wave a hand at the leader, fumbling for a bag tied to his belt. “Wait! Here's your payment, as promised!” He threw the bag clumsily, which landed in the water, and the leader sighed with frustration as he stooped over to pick it up before it could become waterlogged.

Stepping back (and nearly into Thancred!), he opened the bag, inspecting the coins inside, then grinned again as he pulled out a smaller, second bag. He opened it and sniffed its contents, then laughed wickedly. “...Aye, 'tis the real thing. Ahahaha! A thousand thanks to you, boy! You've succeeded where scores of thieves have failed! And now, at long last, we have it! The power to create an army of undying soldiers, the Traders' Spurn!”

Owyne stared blankly at him in baffled confusion. “You- You think that’s- What?”

Unable to hold back any longer Lysander burst out in raucous laughter, putting his fists on his hips. “Trader’s fucking Spurn? You daft bastard, you really believe that old story? And really, really, you told him to come alone but you’ve got a pack of bodyguards? Idiot and a coward! But hey, he is a Sultansworn, he is a perilous sort. Though I say again, you daft bastard! Archers? Archers?! This is Ul’dah, you ninny, not Gridania! Look!” He stepped halfway behind Owyne to hold him by the shoulders and shake him gently, confusing the poor man further. “Plate armor? A shield? A fucking sword? But oh, sure, he’ll totally pull a bow out of his arse and plonk you full of arrows. But...you were correct on one count.”

He stepped forward again and folded his arms across his chest, smirking gleefully now that Thancred had moved away, holding a bag that definitely contained the crown and was securing it to his own belt. “He isn’t alone. And it’s more than just me.” Putting his pinky fingers in his mouth, he whistled loudly. At his signal, the Sultansworn in hiding emerged, drawing weapons and converging on the quarry below. “I know that all of you are just pawns in a greater scheme and have no idea what’s really going on, and sure as shit weren’t capable of pulling off the robbery in the first place, but since your mastermind hasn’t deigned to show himself and you’re not likely to give up his secrets I think it’s safe to say that you’ve earned an arse-kicking anyway. Thancred, if you would do the honors?”

Despite the other man being mostly hidden from sight, Lysander could see him smile as he drew his daggers and plunged them in deep, biting through the robes cleanly. The leader screamed and collapsed, mostly from shock, and the rest of the ransomers milled about in panic for a moment, not sure who to attack, or if they should try and flee. At a shouted, panicked command of “kill them all!” from their stricken leader they joined battle with the royal guard, despite knowing it was a losing battle. Hesitating for only a moment, Owyne drew his own sword and charged forward with a shout, fighting as a team with the other Sultansworn.

Thancred reappeared next to Lysander, looking as pleased as a cat with fresh cream. “A pity our other friend hasn’t shown their face yet, but then, after encountering us last time he-” Both of them turned at the same time, sensing an aetheric disturbance at the top of the ridge. It was the robed person from last time, looking displeased from behind the mask. “I see… Your very being imperils the plan. You cannot be suffered to live. _O mournful voice of creation! Send unto me a creature of the abyss, my thrall to command, that I may smite mine enemies!_ ”

Both rogues looked puzzled, but for slightly different reasons. Thancred clearly had no idea what had been said, but Lysander did, even though he didn’t understand the other person’s language. “Hey, mate, did their voice go all funny for a moment or am I just losing it?”

“It did, but the words I did not understand.”

“...Hunh. I did.”

Giving him a look of shock, Thancred was about to ask something when the robed man began summoning something again, drawing something into being from aether and darkness. “Arse, they’re at it again. You take the long way around, I’ll see if I can keep them from finishing that spell.” Before Thancred could respond, Lysander took off at a full run, drawing up his own aether, then jumped. For most other people it would have been useless, but he launched himself with wind, clearly a skill he had used many times before, carrying himself up to the ledge where he landed neatly. The creature had nearly come into being, and Lysander darted forward again, intending to finish his job before the other could. He wasn’t counting on them being able to split their focus and casting, and ducked aside barely in time to avoid a hasty projectile.

This was just enough time for the spell to complete, and the creature wove itself into existence now that it had been successfully called forth. It was teeth and claws on long, flexible limbs, a sinuous monster created for killing, and Lysander yelped as he dodged once more. “Okay, I’m done fucking about, I am going to wreck this thing and _destroy_ you.” This was easier said than done, as it was as nimble as he was, and apparently impervious to his daggers. Or, at least, they didn’t seem to be slowing it much. “Right, sod it, my turn to get fancy.” Once more, he pulled on his own aether, and after dodging again, launched a blast of fire that not only impacted with a satisfying thump, but made the creature stagger.

Good, now he could work! Humming to himself, he found his center and rhythm, and reached out to the area around him, permeating the sand with his aether before calling it to himself. He danced now, fighting with fire, sand, and wind, making the elements spiral around and strike the beast repeatedly while he avoided its attacks. He hadn’t forgotten the summoner, but Thancred was nearly there, and it wasn’t likely that the other man couldn’t do much against this sort of creature, so it was his responsibility while his companion could take on their magic-wielding foe. His humming was a full song now, his own, and he felt bolstered by it, fighting with ease and without fatigue, chipping away at the monster’s life force as its movements became erratic and sluggish.

More quickly than expected, the aether binding it together and to this plane weakened enough that it was unable to keep its form, and it broke apart into clumps of shadow that dissipated like oily smoke. Triumphant and cocky, Lysander bounced on his toes, daggers in hand, and smirked at the summoner. “Your turn, you cheeky wanker, I’d love answers but I know you’re not giving any.” He sprinted forward, feinting to one side in tandem with Thancred, who had now arrived and was once more stealthed, then pivoted and closed in for what _should_ have been a lethal strike. Instead, both men were blown back by a pulse of aether, and Lysander swore loudly as it sent him over the edge. He saw Thancred rush forward to try to grab for him, knowing that it was futile, but there was something frantic in his eyes that gave Lysander pause.

He put this from his mind for the moment as he grabbed the wind and wrapped himself in it, flipping himself about properly and using it to fling himself haphazardly back up again. As it had been a hasty maneuver he had sent himself higher than he would have liked, but it was better than falling all the way down to the bottom of the quarry. Both Thancred and the summoner weren’t expecting this, but the rogue recovered first and slashed at his opponent, scoring a deep hit that made the summoner stumble back before they formed an aetheric shield to block his attacks. Righting himself once more in midair, Lysander adjusted his trajectory a tiny bit to land behind them, lunging forward to wrap an arm around their head and pull it back, exposing their throat. His dagger cut deep and wide, but before he could feel relief that he had won he felt the summoner flood him with raw aether as a final strike.

Gasping in pain, Lysander dropped his weapons and clutched his head, feeling the same dizziness he had the last time they had fought. Thancred ran over again as the robed figure doubled over, a hand to their throat as they exsanguinated rapidly. “ _...That the wisdom of the Paragons should be brought low...by mere mortals…_ ” They fell over the edge of the quarry and vanished from sight, but Lysander was in no condition to pursue, reaching for the other man for support. Thancred caught him, and-

He smiles at two ladies strolling with him down the street, passing by the Quicksand, flirting openly. “I would compose a ballad in your honor, but I fear no words would do you justice. The Songstress of Ul'dah herself could not rival your beauty.”

Both of them giggle politely. They know that he is flirting and they play along, they all know this game. They know how it will end if they all play to each other’s satisfaction, and so far, he has kept their interest. “Oh, stop it!” giggles the midlander, though it’s all part of the game, she doesn’t really want him to stop. Knowing this, he presses on, gesturing grandly.

“I have oft heard it said that a blossom's beauty can move a man to love and long, but I never truly believed it until I met you two desert roses.” As the highlander finally smiles at his words, his ears perk up as he picks up what is definitely useful gossip from the merchants they are passing by.

“I hear they attacked another caravan…”

“Aye, an' business is sufferin' for it. Bloody Amalj'aa… What's stirred 'em up, do you reckon?”

“Another raid. And I'll wager that caravan was carrying crystals, much like the last.”

His grin slips as he hears this, not liking what it could mean. _If they truly mean to summon a primal, we must act quickly_ , he thinks, then realizes he has stopped and been left behind.

The midlander looks at him with curiosity, wondering if he’s suddenly lost interest. “Are you coming, love?”

The highlander puts her hands on her hips, amused but patient. “You wouldn't keep a girl waiting, would you!?”

Finding his smile again, he spreads his arms wide and puts his arms around their shoulders, checking their reactions to ensure that they are receptive to such an advance. “Perish the thought! So tell me, where in this marvel of a city might you lovely ladies be staying?”

As they walk and converse, he listens to the chatter of the merchants in hushed tones, of how grain is becoming more scarce and expensive from poor harvests, of the rumors of aetheric flows being disturbed, of primal summonings, and of Dalamud, the red moon that grows larger in the sky every day… He sighs to himself but keeps his smile, pretending all is well. _A fine mess. But we must not lose hope. Louisoix will know what to do. We need only trust in his judgment_ , he thinks, as-

Lysander staggered, confused. Those weren’t his memories. His knees buckled and he grabbed onto Thancred for support and-

He turns the strange device over in his hands, examining it with awe. Despite his years in Sharlayan and with the Circle their work never ceased to amaze. _Truly a marvel of Sharlayan ingenuity..._ he thinks as he puts on the device, yet again amazed at how different the world looked through it and adjusts some dials on the side, _it's as if I could reach out and touch the aether. Time to focus... No more gallivanting about like before. The Scions are counting on you._ He takes a deep breath and his shoulders slump for a moment, feeling his customary confidence wane for a moment. _Have faith. Just have faith. You can do this._ Something catches his attention and he resumes his adjustments. _Hmmm... This disturbance is recent._ More calibration and he identifies the location of the aetheric mystery, now concerned. _The Sultantree? Maybe Papashan will know something of it…_

Lysander felt the pain in his head finally subside as reality reasserted itself, though it took another moment to register Thancred mumbling something to himself. “...damn it, not again, I can’t lose…” The other rogue sighed with obvious relief when he heard Lysander groan, hugging him warmly before realizing what he had done and wondered why.

“Nngh, lost what? Mm, never mind. Ow, that-” Blinking, Lysander looked up at Thancred as something clicked. “How the _fuck_ did I get _your_ memories?!”

Mouth open in silent shock once more, Thancred looked as if he’d been punched in the face. “You- You got what?!”

With a soft grunt, Lysander sat up with help, then glanced into the quarry to see how the rest of the fight was going. The Sultansworn were victorious and were taking survivors prisoner, but of the robed summoner there was no sign. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal cigarette case and took one of the rolanberry-flavored sticks, offering it to Thancred, who hesitated a moment before accepting one as well. Lighting both, Lysander put away the case and took a deep drag on his own before exhaling slowly. He sat cross-legged and put his chin in his hand, idly watching the movement below as he related what he had seen, then took another long pull. At the unexpected silence from his companion he glanced over and once more saw that Thancred was staring at him silently.

“That… Those are indeed my own memories, from before the Calamity, and then from earlier today. It is as she surmised, you possess the Echo.”

“That...sounds really familiar but not… Why…”

“It is a power, a gift from the Mothercrystal. It gives you insight into the lives and thoughts of others, allowing you to perceive the memories of another or understand a language not your own, as you did earlier.”

“Hunh. They were basically doing a summoning ritual before, but just before I got, well, Echoed, they said something about ‘wisdom of the Paragons,’ or something, I-” He paused when Thancred choked on his cigarette, coughing as he inhaled the smoke the wrong way.

“Did you-” He coughed again and caught his breath. “You are certain that you heard ‘Paragon’?”

“Yeah, it’s a weird enough word that I remember it. So what I’m gathering from all of this is I’m doing things I shouldn’t normally be able to because of something that I normally shouldn’t be able to have, and this is actually a good thing and you know someone who can help me figure out what the merry hell is going on with it all, right?”

Laughing, Thancred smiled and took a short drag from his cigarette. “More or less, yes. I… We have known each other a while. I remember these, this taste and...talking with you like this. I’ve never had this habit before, but it’s all so familiar.”

Before he could elaborate further, Owyne slowed down and paused for breath, having run up the path to them. “Oof, running in armor never gets easier… I’m glad to see you well, both of you, we have retrieved the crown and have captured most of them. We will escort them to Ul’dah for trial immediately, but we were unable to apprehend that last one, they vanished the moment they fell.”

“Damn,” Lysander huffed, “I was hoping to finish the job this time. That wound should be fatal, but I’m sure they’ll return too soon like a bad cold.”

“Agreed. Although… That bag, why did we stop by the kitchens before we left? And why did he think it was that… Trader Spur?”

“Trader’s Spurn,” supplied Lysander, stretching out on his back with an arm behind his head as he flicked ash off of his cigarette, “as soon as I saw that in the ransom note I knew we were dealing with very dangerous or very stupid criminals. Thankfully the latter. And also thankfully I know most of the stories and legends surrounding not only Ul’dah but Sil’dih, so I figured a mix of cooking spices would do the trick, something sweet and spicy and savory, nice and unusual, would fit the description of the dust in question. Ask your mates later about it, long story, but basically it’s supposed to resurrect the dead and place them under your command, and you can use them to get revenge for Sil’dih and the treachery done by Ul’dah and… Ugh, silly buggers.” Rolling his eyes, he took a long drag off of his cigarette, noticing Papashan arriving and waved languidly at the Lalafel who was now wearing the same armor as Owyne.

“Greetings Lysander, Thancred,” said the stationmaster, looking relieved, “it’s done. We have retrieved the crown, and while we don’t have the person who specifically stole it, the criminals that we have captured will provide us with much intelligence on the whole matter. And speaking of, I ask that you please return with us so that I may debrief you as we travel. Anything you know about that masked person will surely be invaluable.”

Sitting up again, Lysander got to his feet and offered a hand to Thancred. “Might as well, it’s a long walk back and there’s got to be more to this than some idiots wanting revenge for a long-dead city based on legends and rumors. You look quite comfortable in that armor, too, been wearing it long?”

The smaller man’s expression was amused as he gestured for everyone to follow him. “It's been fifteen years since I put down my sword, and took up the role of stationmaster, but once a Sultansworn then one remains so always. It is a capacity in which I am no less proud to serve, lest you doubt. Whenever Her Grace ventures outside the gates, I have the honor of protecting her person.” He shook his head and waited for Owyne to retrieve his chocobo and lead it over before continuing to where the rest of them had hidden their mounts. “Never before had I seen her so despondent as when news of the crown's theft reached her ears. But, thanks to your valiant efforts, she will be returned to her former vibrant self. You have the gratitude of every Sultansworn, both of you. And she will thank you personally for your assistance, I am certain.”

“And here I am a right mess and smelling of sweat and smoke,” Lysander chuckled, puffing on the last of his cigarette, “bit of a bad first impression to make, I’d think.”

“You jest, adventurer, but the Sultana respects those who work and fight with honesty and honor. Further, your efforts together have thwarted a plot that could have brought down the sultanate, so short of showing up in your smallclothes she will be delighted to receive you.”

It was Lysander’s turn to choke as he inhaled one last time, then incinerated the remains of the cigarette to fine ash and dusted off his hands. Thancred nodded to him, only halfway done with his own. “You have strange skill with that, I’ve not encountered a magic user like you before.”

Shrugging, Lysander hooked his thumbs in his belt again. “I’m a son of the desert, mate, I command sun, sand, and sky. And it’s funny, I can’t use _earth_ much at all, but _sand_ works just fine. I’m pretty rubbish with everything else, though, I’ve tried, but I just don’t have an affinity for it. I can’t complain, as what I can do is pretty brilliant, but… I dunno, I did try to study with the Thaumaturges before...I left Ul’dah back then, but couldn’t use magic like that. It’s hard for me to use ambient aether. But I seem to have a massive store of it internally, so I just pull on that. It’s nice because I can reliably use magic anywhere, but the downside is that it’s way too easy to burn myself out quickly.”

Thancred was about to ask something, then dismissed it, with a look that Lysander somehow recognized as “later.” Now that they had caught up with the rest of the Sultansworn, they mounted up, two to a bird, and returned to the city while keeping a diligent watch around themselves for anything suspicious, with Papashan calling in their progress via linkpearl. To everyone’s relief, there was no further excitement or mischief, and arriving at the city many let out breaths they hadn’t realized they’d been holding. Papashan dismounted and handed the reins of his chocobo to a stablehand, then gestured for Lysander and Thancred to follow. They took a route that the rogues had not been before (which was naturally memorized as they went, just in case!), and presently they arrived at the Royal Promenade.

One of the handmaidens straightened up as they approached, recognizing Papashan, and waited until they had approached before making her announcement. “Exalted vessel of Nald'thal, guardian of Thanalan, seventeenth ascendant to the throne of Ul'dah, Her Royal Majesty Nanamo Ul Namo presides!”

Cheers of “Long live Nanamo! Glory to the Sultana! Forever may she reign!” from the gathered Sultansworn echoed down the hall as the Sultana strode toward them, accompanied by Raubahn, and Lysander had to suppress an amused smile. It never failed to impress; the vast difference in size and stature, with the diminutive Sultana and the towering bodyguard, and despite the imbalance it still somehow fit the "balanced" symbol of the Scales of Ul'dah. He knelt respectfully until told to stand again. The Sultana nearly beamed with happiness, her relief obvious. "They regaled me with tales of champions amongst champions, those whose tireless service to the crown merited the highest honor we might bestow." She chuckled and once more Lysander had to not smile. She was so cute! "Never did it occur to me that it might be the both of you once more. Thus, betokening our gratitude and esteem, I, Nanamo Ul Namo, Sultana of Ul'dah, confer upon you this gift. Raubahn!"

The former gladiator bowed in reply. "Your Grace?"

"See to it that our champions are my personal guests at the banquet tomorrow evening."

Both Hyur shared a glance of surprise while Raubahn bowed again as the Sultana departed, and they almost forgot to pay their respects in turn. "As you command, Your Grace." He gave them a salute, something else that neither of them were expecting. "If what they say is true, Ul'dah owes you a great debt. Although, it is strange that we should not have met before this day. I sense we are kindred spirits..." Lysander wasn't sure how to reply, as this had been directed at him, and he was certain that the Flame General was correct, but... "I am not given to superstition, but I'll be sworn our tales belong in the same saga." Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought, but Lysander tucked it away to consider later; he knew that Raubahn was right, but he didn't know how. "Brave souls are few and far between in these times, and I count my blessings when I find one, and thank the Twelve that there are two. Her Grace has invited you both to join her at the coming banquet, and I will be pleased to see you there. For the sake of Her Grace, and the glory of the sultanate, may you walk in the light of the Crystal."

Recognizing that they were being dismissed, Thancred bowed again, but Lysander reflexively saluted and almost laughed at himself. It wasn't their nature to be so openly cheered or noticed, but they took the thanks and congratulations from the passing Sultansworn with good grace. Without quite realizing it, they found themselves back at the Quicksand, somewhat dazed from the entire experience. They shared a glance and Lysander grinned. "I am absolutely starving, how about you?"

"A pity that the banquet is tomorrow, but then, I'm too hungry to be polite about such things." They laughed and set about arranging food and drink, and for a few minutes conversation was forgotten as they made up for lost time, as neither of them had eaten that morning, and lunch had simply been the cheese and meats platter. After some food and a full round of drinks they resumed chatting, and one thing that they found strange was how _normal_ it felt, as if it was something that they had done often for some time before. Despite this, neither of them knew why, and by their fourth drink they honestly didn't care. By drink five they were feeling relaxed and mellow, and Lysander remembered something and huffed in irritation. "Oh? Something bothers you?" asked Thancred, looking amused.

Lysander pouted a little and poked his companion's arm. "I had promised to be a wingman for you tonight and instead I wasted your time chatting you up and drinking with you. Sorry, luv, gimmie a few and I'll see if I can find someone who fits your-"

"Oh stuff it," Thancred laughed, "I'm not bothered, you're pleasant company and I enjoy it. And..." He blushed a little and tried to hide it behind his drink. "...You already have a room, so..."

Putting his chin in his hand, Lysander leaned closer and grinned, definitely feeling a warm buzz. "Oh? Should I keep my hands to myself, or do you want to do more than share the bed?" He laughed when Thancred turned redder, then leaned over to playfully nibble the other man's ear, enjoying the soft gasp he got. "Well, you're welcome to join me, and like I said, I'll behave unless you don't want me to. Your choice, luv."

Thancred didn't answer and Lysander left it at that, and they finished their drinks, getting up and using each other for support on the way to Lysander's room, though they honestly didn't need it. They weren't _drunk_ , just lightly buzzed, and Lysander paused to fish the key out of his pocket before letting them in. Once inside, he closed the door behind the both of them, about to ask something when he was suddenly pressed up against it, being kissed very deeply and thoroughly. Not expecting this, he needed an extra moment to collect himself before his fingers automatically found themselves in Thancred's hair and back, returning the kiss and pulling him closer. "You... Are you certain? We've both been drinking and..." he panted, not at all wanting to stop, but he needed to be sure.

"We both have our wits about us, and yes," Thancred replied in a breathy voice, "just... If _you_ don't want it-"

He was silenced by another kiss, gasping again when Lysander nipped his lip as he pulled away. "No, I want _you_. Use me, however you want." He moaned softly when the other Hyur bit his neck, sucking hard, already knowing what he liked and how. They fumbled at each other's clothes, clumsy with need and the desire to be rid of their garments. Finally undoing Thancred's trousers, it was his turn to pin the other man against the door, kissing him again before going to his knees and pulling out the already-firm length that must have almost painfully tented the fabric. Forcing himself to hold back a little, he licked slowly, almost smirking at the shudder that ran through the other man's body. With a glance up to see his reaction, Lysander took him all the way, almost to the base, palming himself through his own trousers. Thancred's fingers dug into the door before one hand cautiously laced into the coppery hair, rocking his hips into the sensations. Reaching up to cup and fondle, Lysander used both hands to pleasure and tease, his tongue running around the head every time he came up and along the shaft when down. It only took a couple of minutes of this before he could feel that familiar tightening of his partner getting ready to release, and took a breath before taking him as deep as possible, making the other man swear with pleasure and lose himself completely, fingers gripping almost painfully into the ginger hair as he bucked hard and fast into Lysander's mouth, shoulders pressed into the door as he tensed before he spilled, shivering as his hips kept rolling with the waves of pleasure as he came down from the frantic high.

Lysander didn't let him go until he had licked up every drop and the other man was beginning to soften, and got to his feet a little unsteadily. Before he could say anything he was kissed once more as Thancred undid his own belt and trousers, guiding him backwards toward the bed. He grabbed Thancred's shirt by the hem and pulled it up and off in one motion, and was immediately stripped in turn. The bed caught him behind the knees sooner than he had expected and he fell back, giving Thancred the chance to press him into the mattress, kissing again, then biting, tweaking, and caressing down Lysander's body. "My... My bag, the small pocket on the left side..." he panted, and Thancred grinned, knowing what he was being directed to find. Lysander hastily undid the laces on his boots, kicking them and his trousers free, just in time for Thancred to return with a bottle of oil. Opening it, he applied some to his fingers and pressed them against Lysander's entrance, not quite pushing in, but just enough to pull a moan from the other man.

"I'm almost annoyed that I can't remember this, but then, hearing your voice again for the first time is a strange treat," Thancred smirked, getting comfortable between Lysander's legs, inserting two fingers at the same time that he began to suck him, not quite as skillfully as he had been, but enough that Lysander clenched around his fingers and gripped the sheets. "Don't hold back," he said before fingering deeply, seeking the sweet spot inside and chuckling when Lysander moaned again, louder, already writhing from his touch. Usually he would have lasted longer, but to his own admission, it had been a while since he had "been laid," and Thancred's ministrations were already pushing him to the edge. He gave in to it, his hips rising into his partner's mouth, whispering his name as he was coaxed closer and closer, until-

"You- You don't have to- You can-" Trying to give Thancred the option to pull away, he was instead pushed over when three fingers spread him wide, pressing against that spot that always pleasured him. Both hands in the platinum hair, Lysander gripped for purchase as he came, thighs squeezing firmly as the initial wave passed, then released his partner as the aftershocks rippled through his body. He felt lips against his own, salty and warm, and he moaned into it, dragging his nails down Thancred's back. "You didn't have to-"

"I wanted to. " Biting and tugging Lysander's lip, Thancred sat up to almost clumsily remove the rest of his garments, stroking himself back to fullness as he picked up the bottle again. "And I'm sure that you want this."

"Don't hold back," Lysander panted, "like I said, use me, however you want, I just... I just _need_." Fingers, slick and firm, filled him again, stretching and loosening him. "Go on... Use...three again, I want it, I-" He moaned deeply again when Thancred did as he asked, and felt himself getting hard again already.

"On your knees, then," commanded Thancred, withdrawing his fingers to apply oil to himself, stroking himself slowly and firmly. Lysander quickly reached over the edge of the bed into a trouser pocket to grab a handkerchief, then positioned himself as directed. The moment he was in place Thancred spread him wide and hilted in one thrust, fingers digging into Lysander's hips. "Gods, so _tight_... You're okay?" he asked after a moment, and Lysander nodded, gripping the sheets again.

"It's...good... Use me fast and hard and... Spank me, pull my hair, just... Just _fuck_ me." He gasped when Thancred did exactly that, swatting his bottom with an open palm, leaving a red mark that stung with pleasure, and the other man groaned at the way that Lysander tightened around him. "Yes... Just like that, more..." Words were lost when Thancred spanked him again, on the other side, then reached over to thread his fingers into the copper hair again, gripping hard and pulling his head back. Lysander clenched again, whimpering and moaning, losing himself to the rough lovemaking. Thrusting hard and deep, Thancred tried to keep his partner's needs in mind, but he was just so _tight_ and _warm_ , and that voice that called his name made him tingle and need to give him everything he could.

It was a pace and intensity that they both could only keep up for a few minutes, and feeling himself near the end of his endurance, Thancred abruptly pulled Lysander up against himself, biting his partner's ear and clawing down his chest. This made Lysander's voice jump an octave, and Thancred grasped the other man's length, enough oil left on his fingers to fuck him through his own fist as he pistoned frantically, trying to make him come first. He bit the other man's shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, which was the final bit of stimulation needed to make Lysander finish, who barely remembered the handkerchief in time as he pulsed and throbbed in Thancred's hand, stroked through his orgasm as he felt himself being filled.

Thancred panted for breath and nipped Lysander's other ear, easing him to the bed and stroking his cheek softly but weakly. "That was...what we needed, apparently. Are you alright?"

"Mm," nodded Lysander, trying to press into the gentle fingers but finding the coordination to do so difficult, "I needed that... And you... That was just what...I wanted. You?"

Helping Lysander roll onto his back, Thancred took the handkerchief and used it to clean the both of them, kissing him warmly when he was done. "I would not admit it outside of this room, but yes."

With legs that almost didn't want to obey, Thancred extinguished the lights and staggered back to the bed, getting in carefully and pulling the sheets over them as Lysander pulled him atop of himself. "No one will know if you don't want them to. For now, it's just us, and I don't want anything else." Nodding, Thancred wanted to reply, but felt himself drifting off already, and smiled when he noticed that Lysander's breathing had already become deep and even. He rested his head on his partner's shoulder and allowed himself to drift off, knowing that there were a few more things he should have done before they had done... _that_ , but it could wait until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.//


	5. Eyes On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Writing this is so hard because I have SO MANY IDEAS and I keep tripping over myself to write it all down, so editing becomes a giant mess trying to sort it all, or it gets clogged up and I just sit there spinning because "how do I best do this" and- OOF!
> 
> Still, I'm quite happy with how and where this is going, and the plot threads I want to be relevant later are actually being laid now and NOT forgotten so YAY, I'm doing it right! As for Lys's outfit for the banquet, more or less he's wearing something that's a cross between the Taffeta Shawl and the Dalmascan Draped top, and the Quan and Dalmascan Draped Bottoms. Because I like the look of all of those but something _just_ a bit different. Also, all his jewelry is stuff that is sadly not in-game but AUGH would look fucking smashing if it was. <3//

Lysander awoke the next morning, not quite sure where he was for a moment, then was confused for another when he realized that he wasn't alone. With a smile, he ran gentle fingers up and down Thancred's back, remembering the night before. This roused his companion, who made a noise of inquiry and blinked a couple of times as he slowly woke up. Smiling, Lysander stroked his cheek. "Morning. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, I was just enjoying being able to, well, cuddle with someone again. I've been a bit touch-starved lately. Er, if you're not into that-"

He chuckled when Thancred interrupted him with a kiss before sitting up and yawning. "No, I understand, I...need the same thing as well sometimes."

The platinum-haired man looked away, trying to hide a blush, then smiled when Lysander sat up to hug him from behind and kiss his neck. "Well, join me for a shower, then? I could use a rinse after yesterday's excitement, and I need to be presentable tonight. Heh, so do you." He nibbled Thancred's ear and laughed when he gasped at the sensation, getting up to go relieve himself in the bathroom, then reached into the shower to start it. Something occurred to him and he darted back out to the other room, ducking around Thancred who had the same idea, and retrieved a couple of garments from his bag. When he got a strange look he hung them up quickly before turning on the water and waiting a moment for it to get hot. "I always keep a set of nice clothes with me when I travel, just in case, but they're a bit wrinkled from being crammed in my bags so long. So I just hang them up while I shower and the steam will help straighten them out." He gasped softly at the tingle of hot water on his skin as he stepped into the shower, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. Humming to himself, he listened to the way the sound bounced off of the walls, then remembered that he wasn't alone. "Ah, sorry, I'm...very musical."

"So I had noticed," Thancred remarked dryly, joining the shower, "and that's something I wanted to ask but didn't get the chance to yesterday. When you were fighting, that song you were singing, it sounds familiar. You always do that, don't you?"

Lysander moved aside to let Thancred under the water to soak his hair and reached for the hair soap, rubbing it between his palms. "Ah...yes, it's... It's silly, but it helps me focus."

"It worked so it's not the least bit silly," pointed out his companion, grabbing the regular soap, "here, I'll get your back while you do that. And it's always that song, isn't it? I get the feeling that you know many, but that's the one that you always use in battle."

Almost purring at the firm back scrubbing, Lysander didn't answer for a few seconds. "Mmm, that's nice... Hunh, oh, right, yes. I've probably told you this before, but since neither of us can remember, I was born and raised here. I trained in dance and music pretty much as soon as I could walk."

"That explains _how_ you walk, then."

"Oh?" Lysander glanced over his shoulder, almost done scrubbing his hair. Thancred paused for a moment to gather his thoughts.

"You don't walk like most people do, you have a different rhythm to it, and you also just...flow. You roll your feet and walk almost silently, even in boots, and your movements are deliberate and calculated." He offered a wry grin and shrugged. "I noticed when you and Owyne were heading down into the quarry the first time. Some of it has to be a bit of Rogue training, but most of it is someone who has natural grace and elegance. And if you did train here, well, that explains a number of things."

"What, that I'm a natural beauty and my every movement charms all who see?" teased Lysander, poking Thancred's cheek.

The other man actually blushed and reached for the hair soap, turning his back to him and clearing his throat. "...Well, I suppose you could put it that way, yes."

"I was teasing, heh, sorry!" He hugged his companion firmly, kissing the back of his neck like he had earlier. "I'm easy, luv; to get into bed, to compliment, to anything. I'm also full of myself and will do almost anything just to make someone smile. If you aren't attracted to or interested in me then bloody well tell me, my ego can take it!" Humming to himself he scrubbed his fingers through his hair to finish rinsing it and noticed Thancred's thoughtful silence. "...Um, did I say the wrong thing?..."

"No, it's... I'm not _un-_ attracted to you, but I'm not quite attracted, though you are attractive, I admit that openly. I...don't quite know what I feel for you. Fondness, yes, kinship, definitely. And I do not regret last night, nor this." Lysander listened quietly, returning the back-scrub while Thancred washed his own hair and continued, not able to make eye contact for the moment. "We knew each other once, but neither of us remember it, nor the reason we cannot recall any of it. Tomorrow we will meet with the Antecedent and hopefully have answers at last." He winced and glanced over his shoulder again. "Ah, forgive me, I never asked if-"

He gasped and laughed when Lysander wrapped an arm around him to pull him close, tickling his sides with the other. "Stop apologizing, it's fine! I already said yesterday that if you know someone who _does_ know what the merry hell is going on then drag me over there by the hair. Or this thing, it's likely the cause of it all!" He toyed with the gold-wrapped crystal on the leather cord, and Thancred reached for it, pausing a moment to glance up to silently ask permission to do so. With a huffed chuckle, Lysander took his companion's hand and pressed the crystal into it. "There, you don't have to worry. It's only ever done weird stuff to me, and if it was dangerous I'd definitely be dead by now. And again, everything I need to do here I can get done today before the banquet, so we can depart first thing in the morning. ...Er, where _are_ we going? That part I never asked."

"Vesper Bay, our headquarters are-" Thancred paused in rinsing himself off as Lysander had burst into hearty laughter. "Is there something amusing about that place?"

"No! Well, yes, sort of." Lysander scrubbed his hair one last time, finally satisfied that he had got out everything. "That's where I went the day after I left Ul'dah because-" Abruptly his face fell and his shoulders slumped. "...It's...not important. Sorry, never mind."

Thancred turned the water down to a light mist and stroked Lysander's cheek, somewhat surprised at himself for the spontaneous, affectionate reassurance. "If that place bothers you then-"

"No, not that, it's okay." Taking the other man's hand he kissed his palm and pressed it to his cheek. "I just...find it morbidly funny that that's where I left my old life behind and chased a new one after...they died. I ran away and I just...find it funny and odd that I've ended up back here again and am going back there and things are actually going to get better and..." He bit his own lip and closed his eyes against the sting of tears. "I'm a bit stupid, it's okay. Just a total mess all over and on the inside _and_ outside and-" Thancred hugged him tightly, fingers digging into his back, and after a moment Lysander returned it, hearing the unspoken "I understand." After a minute he had his composure back and nuzzled Thancred's neck to hear him laugh again. "Thanks again, luv. Like I said, I'm easy in pretty much every respect." He realized that he had been subconsciously reacting to Thancred's touch, even it it hadn't been directly affectionate or arousing, and offered a weak chuckle. "Ah... _very_ easy. Sorry, I'm trying not to-"

With an amused huff Thancred cupped the back of Lysander's neck, holding him in place for a deep, thorough kiss, grasping their still-firming lengths in one hand. "We're both a bit stupid, and easy. Just enjoy this already."

Smiling into the kiss, Lysander put his hand over Thancred's, helping stroke them both to fullness, his other hand roaming around his partner's body, seeking out spots that could heighten his arousal and pleasure him further. Small shudders and gasps told him when he was doing it right, and he moaned softly when Thancred returned the favor. It wasn't anything terribly intimate, just scratching an itch, so to speak, and it wasn't long before they were barely synchronized as they frantically stroked to completion at the same time, gripped firmly together. Lysander came first, but it was only by a couple of breaths, as Thancred spilled as well the moment he felt the sticky warmth on his hand, and clumsily jerked them until they were empty and panting for breath. "I want to find you someone cute tonight, but at the same time, I want you to fuck me senseless again," Lysander murmured around more kisses.

Thancred only huffed again, rinsing them off one final time before turning off the water. "First we have the business of the banquet, most people would be more excited about that than finding a partner to warm their bed." He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying himself off.

"Hello? Easy? And I didn't say I wasn't interested or excited. I am, this is a good chance for some lovely gossip, and I gotta say, it's bloody clever of them to offer that as a reward." He wrung the water out of his hair and began to scrub his fingers into it, like he had while washing it. At a noise of inquiry from Thancred, he grinned again. "Just another of my little aetheric tricks, I'm really good with fire. My hair is long and thick so it takes a while to dry normally, but by focusing the heat just so I can..." He stepped out and gestured for Thancred to feel his hair, and the other Rogue was surprised to notice that quite a bit of it was already dry. "Anyroad, I'm happy to play the pretty distraction if you don't mind being the eyes and watching everyone else."

Finishing drying himself off, he threw the towel to Lysander, but remained in the bathroom to continue conversing. "I'm not bothered at all. I don't mind being the center of attention sometimes, but in cases like these it's easier for me to step back and watch while someone else draws the eye. And agreed, this is a very clever reward; show appreciation for our service without directly mentioning what was done, and use it as the opportunity to see who gives us a bit of side-eye. A pity that our masked assailant vanished again, I'm concerned that they might reappear soon, but I don't think that trying to crash a party is exactly their style."

"Agreed." Now completely dry, Lysander hung up the towel, following Thancred back to the bedroom and retrieve his clothes. "Thankfully, daggers are small and light enough to conceal easily, and I've learned to dress for such things over the years, so I'll be sure to pack a couple with me. I don't anticipate trouble, but I'd rather be ready for something that doesn't end up happening than be caught unaware." Smalls and trousers were found and put on, and his shirt was next. He left it unlaced for the moment while he grabbed a hairbrush from his bag and sat down in a chair by the table.

Thancred had found his own shirt and trousers, and smiled as he stepped over to take the brush from his companion. "Here, let me, it's a little easier when someone else does it, right?"

Flattered, Lysander smiled and hid a small flush in his cheeks. "Yeah, like I said, I really do enjoy being touched, and having my hair brushed by someone else is a bit of a luxury, if that makes sense." He almost purred while the brush was pulled through his hair; a thick copper mane that fell past his shoulders, and Thancred couldn't help running his fingers through it for a moment.

"It's not something I usually say, but this really is a lovely color. Quite thick, as well, you're very lucky, though it must certainly get in the way sometimes. Have you considered tying it back or braiding it or- ...Lysander?" He had noticed the other man suddenly stiffen, his fingers digging into his thighs.

"It's... It was mother's color. We would braid each other's hair for each other. So she could weave, and I could dance, without it all getting in the way. And..."

Leaning over, Thancred hugged him around the shoulders, kissing his cheek. "I see. You've not worn it that way since, correct?" Lysander nodded, and Thancred gave him a supportive squeeze as he straightened back up. "I won't suggest it again. Although, if you'll permit me..." He reached into a pocket and produced a small slip of black ribbon, thin and unremarkable, and held it in his teeth while he separated out a lock of hair behind Lysander's left ear. With deft skill he plaited it, tying the end with the ribbon, and looked rather pleased with his work. "I see you have a few piercings in your left ear, and I just know that your hair sometimes tangles in them, doesn't it? Well, there, it's not a full braid, but still a small one, just a memory to carry with you."

Lysander brushed the small braid with his fingertips, then stood up to hug his friend once more. "That you don't already have someone who loves you proves this world is unfair," he whispered, "thanks. I...think I'll wear it like this, I like it."

With an embarrassed cough, Thancred hugged him back, but wore a small, pleased smile. "I am glad for that. Well, it seems that we have errands before we meet up again tonight."

"Mm, yeah, here, let me give you the key so you can get in again if you get back before I do. I'll just pick the lock and let myself in."

Tweaking Lysander's nose, Thancred sat down to put on his shoes, lacing up the caligae swiftly while Lysander picked up his boots to do the same. "Or I could ask Momodi for a spare key."

"Oh, fine, be honest and pragmatic about it!"

Lysander checked a few final things before he was going to leave, and looked up when Thancred chuckled, having picked up something slid under the door at some point in the night. He opened the folded letter and read it quickly before passing it over with a wry grin. "It seems that Momodi hears everything! The only thing that surprises me is that this didn't arrive with dinner last night."

Reading at and also grinning, Lysander folded it up and put it in his bag for safekeeping. "And people wonder why I love this city. Even the intrigue is civilized. Well, it's nothing that I didn't already know, but it's kind of her to have given us a heads-up on proper etiquette and stuff and-" He paused, staring off at nothing before laughing again, and sat down heavily on the bed while Thancred gave him an amused but curious look. "I... It's silly, a lot of me is, but when I was growing up I had always dreamed of being able to dance for the Sultana and the rest of the court. Not because I wanted the fame and recognition, but because it would be a mark of my skill, if that makes sense. I wanted to be good enough to be able to perform for the most powerful people in the city, to be able to be in demand by anyone and command any price I wanted. And now...half a lifetime later and I've got an invitation to one of those events, but for reasons I had never expected."

Thancred's smile was soft and supportive as he shook his head. "Perhaps you'll get that chance. I'd like to see you perform."

"Oh really now!" Lysander folded his arms across his chest and pretended to pout.

"I mean it, you are a skilled fighter and I would like to see where some of that skill came from. Besides, should we need a more effective distraction an Ul'dahn-trained dancer should suffice, right?"

Flushing pink again, Lysander looked away to try to hide it and a smile. "Fair enough. Well, I'll meet you back here this afternoon so we can get ready." He bent over to put on his boots and lace them up, hearing the door open and close, then checked his appearance in the mirror on the vanity as he laced his shirt. Pausing, he ran his fingers along the plait tucked behind his ear and smiled. Yeah, he could get used to that.

A couple of other things were grabbed and put in pockets, tucked up sleeves, or generally hidden in clever spots about his person, and he left as well, locking the door behind himself. As a precaution, he took a loose hair that he had extracted from the hairbrush and placed it in such a way that it wouldn't be disturbed by passers-by, but would be dislodged if someone entered the room. Of course he hadn't thought to inform Thancred of this, so it wouldn't be terribly useful if the other man returned first and there had been an intrusion in that time, but he seemed to be the brilliant and observant sort, and Lysander trusted him to pick up on it. Glancing down the hall both ways to ensure that he hadn't been watched, Lysander departed with reassured confidence, off to go pay his respects, as he did every year, and like every year, try to find the strength to forgive himself. Assuming he could ever let himself do so...

Several hours later he returned, feeling slightly drained, as he always needed a solid cry for an hour or so after visiting his parents, thinking to himself that he should have hit the bazaar first. But no, responsibilities first, it was only right, and once he had composed himself he felt well enough to seek out the purchases he needed to make. Stopping by a street vendor for a bit of lunch, he found a spot in the sunshine to eat and just watch, soaking in the light and life of the city, something he dearly missed, but... Not anymore. It wasn't his home. Not without them, and because it was all his fault... He finished his lunch with a sigh, discarding the empty kebab skewers in a trash bin and strolled back to the Quicksand, keeping an eye and ear out for potential persons following him. Normally he wasn't this paranoid, but given the events of the day before he was quite likely caught up in something _much_ bigger than himself, and caution always paid off. To his relief (and slight concern) he returned to his room, finding the hair still securely in place. So he wasn't being followed or tracked or... This was too easy. But then, perhaps he and Thancred had caught the enemy so off-guard that they had no intelligence on either of them or their involvement. Closing and locking the door behind himself, he stripped down to his smalls, hanging up his clothes to keep them clean and free of wrinkles (unlike how they had been carelessly strewn on the floor the night previous), and flopped on the bed. He was feeling rather sleepy for some reason, how odd. Still, he had time, and there was no harm in it. Pulling a pillow to his chest, he let his thoughts drift, then sniffed, clutching it tighter. It never got any easier, and the memories never hurt any less...

The turning of a key in the lock woke him, but he made no indication that he was awake. The door opened and closed, and Lysander smiled to himself at the familiar sounds of Thancred moving quietly about the room, trying not to disturb him. ...Wait, why _were_ those sounds familiar? Those damn holes in his memories! Still, as it was his friend he sat up and was met with a smile. "Ah, Lysander, sorry to wake you."

"It's okay, anyone opening the door would have, been a little paranoid all day, but either nobody knows about our involvement or something is planned for us later." He sat up and hugged the pillow to his chest, checking the chronometer on the wall. "Just felt sleepy, dunno why. I might as well blame the crystal or that masked person, feels like aether drain. But I've not used that much aether in a fight in a while, so that might do it. Even if it wasn't much." Getting out of bed, he stretched and yawned. "Guess I'll start getting ready. This should be fun, I've not been to this sort of thing before. It'll make for an interesting story." He went to the bathroom to retrieve the garments that had been left there that morning, glad to see that the wrinkles had indeed been steamed out and that he would look presentable. Loose trousers that fit low over his hips and ended in a pleated flare above his ankles were dyed tan with wine-red accents. A shirt in the same colors hung off of his shoulders and ended in flowing sleeves, though was cropped to show quite a lot of midriff. A check in the mirror made Lysander grin, and he spun in place once to feel the flow of his clothes, satisfied that they fit and moved correctly, and he winked at Thancred who had offered soft applause in approval. Rummaging through his backpack, he pulled out a smaller bag and a box, then sat down at the vanity, barely remembering to grab a small glass of water.

The box was opened to reveal some pressed colored powders, as well as a slot for brushes. Pulling out one, he dipped the tip in the water for a moment before making circles in the dark brown powder, sticking it to the brush. With a delicate hand and careful precision he lined his eyes with it, then set it aside for the other brush that received the same treatment, but was used for a more reddish color and applied to his lips. It wasn't much, just subtle, but it _did_ enhance a few things, and this was rather normal attire in Ul'dah anyway. He put he brushes back into the box and put it aside, opening the bag and pulling out bits of jewelry; a single chain with three tiny golden coins for his right ear, and for his left, the stud remained at the bottom, but in the second and top ones a pair of studs connected with the same style of chain and tiny coins, produced a fetching, asymmetric effect. He was glad for Thancred's braid, as his hair definitely would have caught in this, but he did have a couple of clips and combs for just this reason. Continuing with the motif, bracelets and anklets of the same were added, as well as a sash that he tied around his waist that had the chain and coins sewn to it, the gauzy fabric in the same wine-red as his clothing's accents. The gold-wrapped crystal was still worn and was very eye-catching for its placement, as he wore no other chokers or necklaces. For the last of it he wanted a bit of help and called Thancred over, laughing when the other man paused in putting on his own shirt to stare at him, eyes and mouth wide.

"Like what you see?" teased Lysander, shifting his weight to one leg and putting a hand on a hip.

"Yes..." automatically replied the other man, who cleared his throat and looked away, a blush spreading across his face. "Ah, that is..."

With a merry laugh, Lysander crossed the room to him, the coins jingling softly and musically. "Aw, don't be like, that, luv, I'm flattered! This outfit is meant to evoke that sort of response. Dancer, remember? I'm supposed to be beautiful and graceful, and I admit that I do enjoy looking both feminine and masculine at the same time. And for what it's worth, a bit of kohl would make your eyes even more lovely, you know, it's the same shade of warm brown, and it _is_ in fashion."

It seemed that Lysander had a particular skill for leaving Thancred either speechless or tripping over what words he did have, and it took a moment for the Rogue to politely decline. "Perhaps later, I've never gotten the hang of being pretty myself."

"Well, being handsome does that to a man. Here, help me with this, it's a bit hard to do from behind, even when using two mirrors." Yet another chain with coins was produced, but this one had clips attached at regular intervals, pressed into Thancred's hands while Lysander turned around. "It needs to clip in about here, like that," he said, tracing a band on the back of his head, "it's supposed to match up with a forehead piece, and I can never get the angle right on my own without fighting it for a solid half an hour."

He felt Thancred fumble with it for a moment until he figured out the right spacing, then the other man stepped back to get a better look at his work. "How's that? I think I got it clipped in correctly, but..."

Lysander went back to the mirror and carefully patted his hair, grinning as he picked up the forehead chain. "Brilliant! Got it on the first try. Thanks, luv, you saved me a lot of bother." He grabbed a sturdy pair of black flats and put them on, bouncing on his toes to ensure that they fit snugly but not tightly. "There we go, all set. Well, except for weapons, time to get _completely_ dressed." The fans were secured to his hips under the sash, and a couple of daggers and throwing knives hidden cleverly about himself, easy to access if he needed them but wouldn't be noticed otherwise, even by particularly handsy individuals. He took a moment to appreciate Thancred, who appeared to prefer simpler clothing, but had found garments that suited both his personal style and that of the city; flared trousers like his own but longer, and a simple long-sleeved shirt with an open bolero over it, all in tan and dark green. Also clothes that could accommodate numerous daggers, which was likely the primary reason that he had chosen what he did. His usual sandals still worked with his new outfit, and he chuckled at himself when he reflexively reached for the device that he always wore strapped to his arm.

"It's odd what becomes familiar so quickly," he murmured, and hesitated for a moment before securing it like he always did. "I can always pass it off as some exotic fashion if someone gets inquisitive, but I'd rather have that handy in case something goes funny." He glanced over at Lysander and snorted with amusement. "My colleagues went to great lengths to provide me with the means to detect aetheric disturbances, but every time I find one, you seem to be in the middle of it. You're apparently a lodestone for such things and I'm starting to wonder if it might not be simpler just to follow you around."

"Oh? What is that, anyway?" asked Lysander as he put away the box and bag back into his backpack, "I recall you using that in your memory, and I think I that it lets you see aether?"

"Something to that effect, yes. I'll explain as we go. Ready?" Checking the mirror one last time and running down a mental checklist, Lysander paused a moment to close his eyes, finding his center and focus. It was a performance of a kind, and he was going to be on stage. He needed to be ready for anything. His smile became flirty and mysterious, and his walk went from a rolling saunter to a swaying stride. This surprised Thancred once more, who took his hand and opened the door for them, then locked it. "I've met several people who can change their face, but none who can change their soul. You're still the same man I recall, but everything about the way you carry yourself is different. That is quite the useful skill."

"Thanks, luv, it's nice to hear that now and then. And it's something I've practiced for as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to be on stage. Again, not for fame or riches, but to entertain. I've always wanted to make people smile, to inspire them and make them feel better, to give them something to want to be. Life went a different direction, but I'm still putting it to use, and I'm able to help people and save lives, and I can be happy with that, at least."

"That's an honorable goal, friend," Thancred chuckled, "to uplift and inspire is difficult but it enriches the soul, and that is something that few people can do well."

They conversed softly as they left the Quicksand, following the same route that they had the day before, keeping an eye out for peril but outwardly appeared to be enjoying each other's company while oblivious to their surroundings. Arriving at their destination, they were amused to find that one of the guards at the door was Owyne, who perked up at their arrival, though he did gawp at Lysander for a moment before apologizing. "Ah, sorry, I hadn't expected you to be so...er...fetching." He cleared his throat and gestured to the doors. "We are honored to receive you, good sirs, please proceed inside." Bowing politely, they offered their thanks and mentally steeled themselves, wondering what sort of politics were in play that night.

As they entered and began to mingle, Lysander removed a fan from his hip and snapped it open, outwardly to demurely hide a laugh. "Stick together an hour and then split up?" he asked from behind it, pointing at nothing in particular and leaning close as if to ask Thancred about it.

"Agreed," murmured his companion, "that should give us enough time to read the room." They mingled as planned, chatting up anyone who came to investigate them, giving the barest crumbs of information about themselves while appearing to be politely overwhelmed and awed by it all. Eventually Raubahn appeared, and they exchanged a glance, knowing that it was a good time as any to split up.

The massive Highlander already commanded attention with his imposing presence, but his command to attention alerted everyone who hadn't been paying attention. "All hail the sultana!" The cheer went up from the guards present and then the guests as she made her entrance, and the Flame General knelt to allow her to take her customary perch atop his shoulder, where she could better see and address the room. "By right of the Royal House of Ul, I, Nanamo, seventeenth of my line, am grateful for your presence here tonight, as we are graced this day by the presence of heroes to Ul'dah, and dear friends to the crown." She gestured at Lysander and Thancred, and both men were barely able to suppress a smile, already planning their next moves. "Honored guests, I give you our champions!" They bowed gracefully to polite applause, then to the sultana. "And with that, I bid you enjoy the feast."

As murmurs began to grow louder and eyes shifted in their direction, Lysander fanned himself as though flustered by the sudden attention. "I'll go chat up Raubahn, I want to ask him a few things anyway. You're good on perimeter duty?"

Taking Lysander's hand and kissing it, he gestured off at something. "Easily done. Let's see if there's any fun to be had tonight."

Flowing smoothly, Lysander approached Raubahn with a smile and a wink. "Good evening General, if I can be so bold, I'd like to steal a bit of your time. Besides, it seemed like you wanted to talk with me yesterday but there wasn't the time for it."

The taller man laughed and went to procure drinks for the both of them, handing over a goblet filled with wine. "Had I ten men like you I'd never have to worry about politics again. But aye, lad, I did. You do remind me of someone, or perhaps we've met before. Though I cannot recall... Forgive me, but I never caught your full name."

"Lysander Morgensonne, and- Pardon?" He hadn't been expecting the look of recognition on the general's face.

"Morgensonne? Do you know an Ar'tur Morgensonne?"

Lysander very nearly dropped his drink. "Wait- You knew father?"

"Father? That's- Has it really been that long?" The general rubbed his chin as he thought. "Thal's balls, it has been. Aye, I can see it, you've your mother's hair and eyes but your father's face. The things that we remember..."

Taking a drink to steady himself, Lysander held his cup in both hands. "You knew him? ...That's a stupid question, of _course_ you had met him at some point, he was a Flame for, well, forever."

"One remembers one's brothers in arms. I remember the names and faces of all who fought with me to depose the Mad King."

This made Lysander stare at him blankly, thoroughly baffled. Ul'dah had always had a sultanate, not kings, and his father had never spoken of-

Then a random snippet of history that he remembered snapped back and slapped him in the face. "Wait- Half a moment, you mean Mad King Theodric? Of Ala Mhigo? No offense, but why the seven hells would he have done that?!"

"...Because you're Ala Mhigan and he was fighting to-" Raubahn blinked and gave Lysander a similarly baffled look. "Did... They never told you any of that? I remember that he had a child, recently born during the rebellion, so little wonder that you don't remember it, but I'd have thought..."

It took no small amount of will to not stagger at this information. "No, they... We're Ul'dahn, they never said anything about anything or anywhere else." He reached up to his face and remembered something. "Father's scar, so that was from...?"

"Aye, lad, earned it in the final push, saved the lives of several men and nearly got himself carved up, but he lived to tell the tale. And then when the Empire invaded after he fought in that war as well, but seeing as he had family to protect, he and many of us fled for safety. I ended up in the gladiatorial pits for many years, but apparently your parents were more fortunate and he was able to enlist with the Flames." Raubahn chuckled and took a long drink. "He wasn't the only one, there were enough of us that an entire regiment of Ala Mhigans was formed, and many still serve, though their numbers have significantly dwindled over the years. ...Mostly in combat." He gave Lysander a sorrowful look. "I heard about him, Lysander, it was impossible odds but he held the line alone long enough for everyone else to get to safety and rally reinforcements. He died a hero and is still remembered by those with whom he served. Though...it's been many years but all of us wondered why we couldn't find you or your mother afterward."

Wincing at what felt like a knife in his heart, Lysander gritted his teeth against tears before draining his goblet. "The same day that father died she passed from illness. I... I wasn't strong enough, I couldn't live with it, everything was my fault and I... I ran. I sold everything, gave them a proper burial, and left. it's been ten years and..." He turned away to put down the empty cup and grab a filled one. "I've been running ever since. I come back once a year to pay my respects and then I leave. This isn't my home anymore, I don't belong here."

"I don't believe that." The words were softer than Lysander had expected, coming from a man so large. "I understand your pain, and why you left. But I see before me a man who knows and loves this city and its people, or you'd not have done what you did. Further, you have my deepest condolences. That you had to endure so much alone and thought that you had none to whom you could turn hurts me as well. Would that we had gotten someone to your home sooner so that you did not feel as though you had to flee."

"...Thank you, General, that means a lot. I... Ala Mhigan, that's..." He shook his head and finally smiled. "I would like to learn more someday. From you or father's comrades in arms. I'm no hero, but I hope that I can live up to the stories of one who was."

Lysander staggered a little when Raubahn clapped him on the shoulder, amazed at how strong the general was. "Most definitely! You know, you remind me of another hero, strange as it is, one who fought with me at Carteneau."

A memory flickered and Lysander reached for it, but it vanished, not noticing that the crystal he wore also pulsed faintly... "The Calamity?"

Raubahn nodded and stared into his goblet. "Several warriors stood with us, most not of this land, but one who once called these cities home, helping to bring together the three Grand Companies when the Empire threatened the realm. They stood with us but are now lost..." He sighed again and Lysander sipped his drink, feeling the tug of memory again, still unaware of the crystal's brightening. "None who survived Carteneau have forgotten their sacrifice, nor would any deny that they fought alongside us, but one person... Their name comes not to our lips, and the once-familiar pages of their story are now blank to us."

_A hot wind blows across the plains, making tattered banners flutter weakly, as though it were their final breath. The sky is red and angry, as if also coated with the blood that stains the sands below it..._

Lysander shook his head. What- What was that memory? The crystal pulsed more strongly now but neither he nor his companion noticed.

"In our mind's eye, their face is naught but a silhouette framed by a blinding glare. For this we call them the Warrior of Light."

_The army of the Empire is endless and relentless. The Grand Companies are stretched to their limit, continually calling for retreats and to fall back to regroup, knowing that they only delay the inevitable..._

Putting a hand to his head, Lysander felt a twinge in his temple, the same pain he felt before he had been overwhelmed when fighting that masked person, but this felt somehow different. It... He drank the rest of the wine at once, glancing about and looking for that mysterious summoner, ready for a fight, but saw none who matched the description, and realized that he wasn't feeling the rush of aether, either. His eyes went wide as the wine hit his system and he felt something unlock something inside at the words "Warrior of Light."

Raubahn sighed, swirling the dark liquid in his glass. "When I look at you I cannot help but think of them, and-" He finally noticed Lysander's expression as well as the crystal that now pulsed firmly and brightly. "What- What in the name of the Twelve-"

"The Twelve aren't strong enough," Lysander murmured, staring off not only elsewhere, but else- _when_. "The peoples of Eorzea had prayed and called out to them for mercy and aid, and Louisoix has called upon them to bind Bahamut, after the dread wyrm shattered its prison of Dalamud, the land scarred and burning from the sky that has broken open and now falls upon the doomed inhabitants below. Louisoix summons all of his power and that of the people, all of the faith and hope that were trusted unto him, but it isn't enough. For a moment Bahamut is bound in white light and powerful runes, momentarily held back by the Tweve, but he breaks free of these bindings as well and resumes his rampage, slaying all in his path with indiscriminate abandon. The world is being consumed in fire and death. All anyone can do is flee, and for many it is a futile gesture..."

Lysander had only gained the attention of a few people at first when he had reacted in pain, assuming that he'd had too much wine or was being bored by one of the General's stories, but soon the room was silent, focused on him, not only for what he said but what they were remembering as well...

"The leaders of the Companies call for a full retreat, to pull back all of their forces, knowing that no mortal can stand up to the power of an elder Primal. It will only buy people minutes, perhaps hours, everyone knows that this is the end... But we can't give up, there must be something, anything we can do..." Still lost in his own mind, he grins with a twisted, sad smile. "I've never fought a god before, but I guess I'll try. I just need to-" He stopped, looking confused, and the pendant flared with a sudden burst of light. "What are you- Wait, Louisoix, stop! Wait, _no-!"_

The world faded in slowly, as Lysander's senses were still fuzzy. But why were they fuzzy? Words finally filtered through the haze while his vision sorted itself out. "...not sure, General, similar happened yesterday, but not like-" Lysander groaned softly, interrupting Thancred, who sighed with relief.

Now coherent enough to realize that he was in Thancred's arms, his head on the other man's shoulder, Lysander blinked and wondered why he had fallen, he didn't have that much wine, or had- Then hard clarity hit him and everything snapped into place. "I was there... Carteneau..." He blinked and sifted through the memories that had apparently been withheld from him for several years and now had been dumped in his lap, so to speak. "I had remained with Louisoix to protect him as best that I could. But when Bahamut broke the bindings and Tupsimati in the process, he... I don't know what he did, I just remember light, everything became light and... I woke up elsewhere, much later, remembering nothing." With Thancred's help he stood up, brushing himself off and looking determined. "I see... Minfiilia and I will have much to discuss, it seems." He remembered where they were at that moment and winced again, realizing that he had attracted the wrong sort of attention. "Bugger. Now everyone's staring, we'll have no idea of who set things up and-"

"This is more than just a stolen crown," Raubahn remarked, "everyone here remembered where they were during the Calamity when you did...whatever that was. None seem worse for the wear, but you have just proclaimed yourself a famous hero in a room full of very powerful and influential people."

"What- But I'm no hero!" replied Lysander automatically, "I just- That is- I'm just...me."

Thancred kept a hand in the small of Lysander's back, just in case the other man felt dizzy again, and offered him an amused smile. "Then 'just you' is a very interesting person and will be the subject of much debate and interest soon. Look, you seem to find yourself when you're moving, and you _did_ say you wanted to perform at one of these someday. I'll watch the crowd, you make them watch you."

Giving him a soft peck on the cheek, Lysander took the opportunity and moved with that same flowing gait he had been using all night, taking a spot where he would have plenty of room to move. The musicians recognized a dancer when they saw one, and when he took a starting pose and nodded they played, picking something upbeat and energetic to change the mood from the unexpected flash of memories. The memories were forgotten in moments, as the room watched with silent appreciation and Lysander allowed himself to throw himself into the music and movement. This was where he felt the most alive! When all eyes were on him and they hung on his every word and movement and it was simply _glorious_. He never wanted it for the sake of the attention, he wanted it to make them _feel_ , to experience something and be uplifted by it. And now, finally, a dream that he had only expected to remain one was now a reality, and he gave them all that he could. As one song became another he pulled the fans from his waist and used them as well, adding to the visual spectacle. The coins jingled softly, a metallic sigh that rippled over his body as he danced, turning sound into movement, and too soon, all too soon, even his impressive endurance was that of a mortal. He ended in a final, triumphant, defiant pose, one he couldn't maintain for long, and felt the need to catch his breath, but oh! The way his heart pounded in his ears over the sound of applause, the tingle of sweat on his skin, the pleasant ache of muscles pushed to their limit, he felt so _alive_! Bowing, he reattached the fans to his hips and was immediately surrounded, though by those who had to offer their accolades for his skill and for showing something worthy of the sultana's banquet. He thanked everyone individually, genuinely so, for this was why he entertained, to see those smiling faces and know that he had given them an experience to remember.

Once he was finally free, he accepted a goblet of wine from Thancred, who was extremely amused. "Well, apparently tonight is a loss, because if anyone _was_ plotting something your little memory-bomb and then dance routine have thrown everyone off of their plans. All I saw was people having a good time and being amazed by someone who was _very_ good at their art."

"Well, damn," Lysander remarked into his cup, "looks like I've made a right mess of things."

"To the contrary, master Morgensonne," rumbled Raubahn, "should you be unoccupied soon I would speak with you again. Knowing your connections and history, there is much that I would ask of you, but I hesitate to burden you with unwanted requests."

Glancing at Thancred, there was a fast, silent conversation, and Lysander smiled, remembering how and why it was all so familiar. "We're off to Vesper Bay tomorrow, but it's not that long or far a journey, and I'll likely be occupied there a couple of days. Will tomorrow morning be enough time?"

The Flame General smiled and clapped a hand to Lysander's shoulder again, though this time the Midlander was ready for it. "Of course, and thank you, lad, you have my unending gratitude for all that you have done."

The banquet lasted a while longer, and thankfully nothing further of note happened, though Lysander did several times have to quash feelings of feeling quite silly for fainting like that in public. Thancred teased him gently about it on the way back to the room, and when Lysander pouted and didn't talk to him for a minute the other man laughed and stopped him to give him a hug and apologize, he hadn't meant it in rudeness, only in jest. Mollified, they resumed their route back to the Quicksand, though not _too_ quickly, as it was a nice night out and the breeze was pleasant. Back at the room, however, once the door was locked it was Lysander's turn to press Thancred against it and kiss him deeply, grinding up against him and biting his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a dark mark on the tattoo already there.

"Ah-! It seems that we...both remember," Thancred gasped, "though I admit...some memories are slower to return."

"You remember how to take me and pleasure me, that's good enough for now," replied the dancer, removing Thancred's shirt and then his own. Grinning, Thancred undid the sash and threw it over a chair with a musical tinkle.

"It's one of the few things in which I take great pride. Leave the jewelry on, otherwise..."

Lysander pushed him toward the bed as he neatly undid his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles before he stepped out of them and his shoes. "Then lay back so I can ride you, I'd rather not get these tangled in my hair if I can avoid it." He grabbed the oil from the table next to the bed, where it had been left from the night before, applying it to his fingers and handing over the bottle before he began working himself open, fingering deeply. Moaning softly, he bit his lip and watched lecherously as Thancred applied it to himself, stroking himself more than was needed to just ensure he was properly coated. He straddled Thancred's hips, positioning himself over the tip, letting it press against his entrance for a delicious, agonizing moment before he let himself slide down upon it. "Nngh, gods, you always fill me so full, little wonder I always came back to you when I could find you."

His partner shuddered softly as he entered him all the way, pushing his hips up a little to ensure that he was all the way inside. "And while I generally prefer the company of ladies, something about you just makes me burn with desire. Though after tonight I'm not the least bit surprised." Caressing Lysander's body wherever he could reach, he let the other man take the lead as he drank in the sight of him, reaching up to tweak a nipple and chuckling at the sound that his partner made. "With all of the rest of the chains you have on I'd have thought that these would be pierced as well, something else to drive your audience wild with, mm?"

Finding a rhythm as he rode up and down on Thancred's shaft, Lysander shivered pleasantly. "Not quite my...sort of sensation or thing. I like it on others, but...not for me, ears only, and..." He leaned back, his hands on Thancred's thighs, moaning loudly when the sweet spot inside of him was stimulated with every thrust. "Ah-! I'm- There, I won't last long but just like-" He moaned again when Thancred began stroking him, trying to match his partner's pace, and for a minute there was no sound but the soft clinking of his jewelry, skin slapping against skin, and breathy, deep gasps. "Fuck, this is good, I want to...keep going all night like this, but..."

"Then get down here so I can kiss you," Thancred demanded, "and don't hold back, I want to feel it."

As commanded, Lysander leaned forward to kiss his partner, whimpering and moaning around his tongue as Thancred began to buck up into him as well, swatting his bottom hard and scratching erratic lines down his back. He gripped Thancred's shoulders and met the other man's thrusts as hard as he could, chasing his climax, and with one last bite on the shell of his ear and a hard, sharp spank, he let go, painting his partner with spattered splashes of white. Fingers digging into Lysander's hips for purchase, Thancred released as well, massaged by his partner's walls to fill him with all that he could, squeezing out every last drop until they both lay there, panting for breath. Carefully, Thancred reached up to unclip the chain from Lysander's hair and tossed it onto the table nearby, somewhat surprised that he actually made the throw. Lysander almost fell over, but caught himself in time to not flop haphazardly next to the other man, smiling with pleasure as he removed his earrings and likewise tossed them aside, followed by bracelets and anklets. The slightly-used handkerchief from the night before had also been left where it had been discarded, and Thancred used that to clean himself off before pulling Lysander atop him and kissing him once more.

"I think that...I must admit defeat, that I am spent for the moment."

"As am I, but it was a busy day, perhaps we can set aside a day to do nothing _but_ play a bit." Lysander chuckled and pulled a blanket over them both. "I wouldn't mind a day of nothing but hedonistic pleasure."

"Perhaps that can be arranged someday." Cuddling in the afterglow, much like the night before, Thancred let his hands wander until he dozed off, as Lysander had already gone soundly to sleep. The dancer dreamt vividly, remembering things that had been forgotten for so long, as if his mind was trying to ensure that he really _did_ have those memories back, and all of them warm and fond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.//


	6. Pray Return to the Waking Sands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Yes, I did go to Waking Sands to check a few things, and yes, I _am_ referencing things that happened back in 1.x . Sadly, I was not playing at that time (I picked up ARR about six months after launch, I think, or six months before HW, I forget...), so I've been researching the heck out of wikis and YouTube vids to make sure I have my info right. Because I'm THAT sort of writer. :3
> 
> Also, I'm trying, but I know I buggered up Urianger's dialogue a bit, I'm not bad with writing in his sort of prose, but I'm not quite _good_ at it yet, either!
> 
> EDIT 25 June 2020: Holy shit I had a load of errors in this. I'm usually MUCH better at proofing my work. Oof! I fixed everything, though, but still feeling like a doofus...//

It was late morning by the time that Lysander woke up, and after a satisfying yawn and stretch he realized that he had the bed to himself. Puzzled, he sat up and heard a soft chuckle from across the room. Thancred was seated at the table, sipping a cup of tea, looking amused. "Morning, Lys, you were out a while. I've gone ahead and got things cleaned up and had some breakfast sent over. It just got here."

Smiling happily, Lysander stretched again and got out of bed, checking the chronometer. "Wow, I'm not much a morning person anyway, but we _did_ go to bed sorta early, and it's not like it wore me out that horribly." He winked and grinned. "No offense."

"Ha! None taken!"

With one more stretch (mostly for Thancred's benefit!), Lysander retrieved his smalls and traveling trousers from where Thancred had draped them over the back of a chair, as the ones from the night before had been thoughtfully put away in his bag. "Thanks for cleaning up, luv, we sorta scattered everything everywhere, didn't we?"

Thancred took a slice of fruit and watched with appreciation as Lysander got partially dressed and sat down as well, preparing a cup of tea for himself. "I couldn't quite leave until I'd had the chance to coordinate with you, could I? And I couldn't exactly wake you, with how deeply you slept. It just felt wrong."

Lysander sat up to lean over and kiss his cheek before retrieving the cream to add to his tea. "You're a sweetie, luv, but don't worry, I won't tell anyone, you've a reputation to keep." Thancred snorted and rolled his eyes, finishing the fruit slice and reaching for more. "But yeah, I've got no idea, I mean, yeah, last night was fun and great, all of it, but I shouldn't have been that worn out. I just felt _drained_ , and I didn't use nearly enough aether to account for..." He trailed off as he stared at the wall, his eyes unfocused, and his companion asked him what was wrong. "I... I _am_ short on aether. But not because I used too much, it's that I have more capacity for it now. How the _fuck_..."

It was Thancred's turn to stare, pausing mid-chew, and after a few seconds he swallowed his bite and picked up his tea. "Once more that is out of my area of expertise. I bet a tall stack of gil that Urianger would, though. Er, sorry, you probably don't-"

"Yeah, he is the aetheric master, isn't he?" mused Lysander, still lost in his own mind, "I don't recall any books we talked about before on the subject, but-" He blinked and sat up straighter. "I... I'm remembering everyone. Last night I recalled Minfilia without thinking about it, and now Urianger. They're all coming back, all of our adventures and conversations and... Gods, now I wonder if all of that extra room for aether is going to be taken up with all of the memories I got back. It's felt like I've had locked doors in my mind for the last five years and no matter what I did I could never find a key. Now I'm hearing all of the clicks and creaks as they open up and it's just so weird to think of something and there it is finally, without really having to reach for it." He laughed and grinned, holding his teacup in both hands. "I'm really looking forward to meeting everyone again. It's still all fuzzy, but it's also a warm and fuzzy. First, though, I need to pop down to the Hall of Flames. And soon, too, I slept in late!"

Thancred chuckled and continued to eat slowly while Lysander drank his first cup quickly, grabbing mouthfuls of food after each garment of clothing he grabbed and put on, almost choking on something when he leaned over to lace up his boots. "Well, let's at least get set up for travel before you go. If that backpack and guitar are all you have then I'll arrange the ride out to Vesper Bay while you talk to the general about whatever it is that you need doing. We'll be departing via the Gate of the Sultana, so I'll take your gear with me once you stop at the Hall and you can catch up."

Dressed and suitably armed with his standard complement of daggers (and fans!), Lysander poured and drank another cup of tea, grabbing a handful of nuts as he kissed Thancred's cheek again. "I owe you, I really do. And yeah, everything I brought is just those two things, so let me do one last sweep of the room to make sure we didn't forget anything and I'll be ready to go. ...After _one_ more cup of tea, that's really good today."

As Lysander checked everywhere and in both rooms, Thancred appraised the guitar case with a curious eye. "That's a rather bulky and valuable thing to carry with you on your travels. Sentimental value, then, or...?"

Having found everything to his satisfaction and that nothing was missing, Lysander paused by the item in question, running his fingers over it and smiling fondly before sitting again and pouring a third cup of tea. "Aye. Bought it with my own coin when I was ten." He sipped his drink and held the cup in both hands, losing himself in memory again. "I'd been dancing for a few years by then, and I was getting better as best a child could, but I needed more, something else to go with it. Then one day I encountered someone playing on the streets for a bit of coin. It was brilliant!" He laughed and turned his smile to Thancred, who couldn't help but mirror it. "I knew that I had a decent ear for music and would have a good voice, as I'd already started training that as well. But to be able to play and sing? With that and dance I could make my way anywhere! So I saved up every coin that I could and one day purchased that guitar. Oh, I was so terribly awful at first, I know mother and father were proud of me for practicing and trying, but I felt so awful bothering them with such a din. I stole away to someplace private and away from others so that I could practice without bothering anyone, trying my best to do it every day. Every day for five years, and I got better and became skilled enough to perform for others. And-" His voice cracked and he gritted his teeth. "...Sorry. I... Still hurts. That skill ended up helping me when I had to leave. That first night it paid for a room and a meal, though not quite how I had expected."

"Oh? How so? If it isn't rude of me to ask."

Lysander finished his tea and the rest of the food since Thancred had had his fill, and told him of the friend he had made at that inn ten years previous, picking up his gear while he talked. He brushed his own lips with his fingers and chuckled softly. "It's silly, all of it, but that small act of compassion, unprompted and honest, kept me going enough to find a purpose to live again. I met him again over the years a couple of times and I had written to him while traveling, and each time he was delighted to see me doing well. I guess... I want to be able to do that for others. That one small, tiny thing that in someone's worst moments gives them hope again." Stepping outside of the room, he gave enough room for Thancred to leave as well, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, a little embarrassed. "So, yes... I..."

He jumped a little in surprise at soft fingers on his cheek, and Thancred chuckled, withdrawing his hand and gesturing down the hall. "Many seek to heal one's body. You seek the healing of the soul. That is arguably more difficult and a path that not many others choose. And...I know that I've heard you play for us before. I would hear it again if you would oblige me so, I've never had the skill for such things and I respect it in others."

Finding his smile again, Lysander hugged him as they walked. "Definitely! I've been itching to play again the last couple of days, and a good audience is always worth it!"

They returned their keys to the front counter, confirming that they were indeed checking out completely, and Momodi grinned at them, looking gleefully smug. "Well, take care, both of you, and the next time you're back I want to hear all about your travels! I already heard about the banquet and I'm sorely vexed that I didn't get to see that performance. Still, best to not keep Raubahn waiting, and again, thank you both for everything that you've done, I don't know if we can ever properly repay you for it, but damn if we won't try!"

As agreed, at the Hall of Flames Lysander transferred his bags over to Thancred, who winced a bit at the weight, but shooed Lysander off to his own business before the dancer could try to mess with anything further. Unsure of exactly where he should go, Lysander reported to the nearest person in uniform and was directed to someone who knew where he should go, and after a couple of hand-offs that continued him in the correct direction was escorted into Raubahn's office. He offered a salute when the general looked up at his arrival, earning a chuckle and a grin while the imposing man pushed back his chair and stood. "Glad am I to see you again, Lysander. I would request your assistance once more if I may add to your current burdens."

"If it's within my power I'll do what I can," replied the Midlander, "though I don't know what someone like me can offer that you don't already have."

Raubahn laughed heartily and folded his arms across his chest. "I remember you now, lad, and you had that same air about you then. You underestimate yourself and do so to your own detriment. You are far more valuable and useful than you think you are, and people listen to you. That is what I would ask of you."

"...You want me to give a speech? Or dance for them? Or?..." Lysander was plainly puzzled, and Raubahn laughed again.

"Nothing like that, no, but I would like you to speak _with_ someone. At least two others, specifically." He reached out and picked up a letter from the top of a small stack. "I am preparing letters for my counterparts in the Eorzean Alliance. Five years ago, we looked on, powerless, as our brothers and sisters were taken from us at Carteneau; first by the Garleans, and then by the thrice-damned primal called forth by their treachery. Not a day goes by that I do not think of my fallen comrades..." He sighed and sagged, looking much older for a moment. "...And of the Warrior of Light, of whom no trace remained." He looked at Lysander again and looked relieved somehow. "But you not only survived, you have returned, and you now recall everything, as do I. However, the tragedies of the Calamity are not so easily forgotten, nor should they be. In remembering all we've lost, we're reminded of what we still have."

Putting the letter back on the stack he folded his hands behind his back as he paced back and forth by his desk. "And so I mean to mark the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Carteneau with a memorial service honoring the fallen. It is my hope that my counterparts in the Alliance will agree to do the same." He paused to fix Lysander with a solemn look. "And I would have you bear my words to them as my personal envoy."

"Wha- Me? But-"

"Why you?" interrupted the general with a chuckle, "because your deeds have marked you out as not only a man of honor and integrity, but the Warrior of Light that has inspired countless people since the Calamity. I can think of none more worthy of the role. The question is: will you accept it?"

"...But I'm not a hero," Lysander replied automatically, and immediately felt silly for it. "I- It's not that I refuse, I'll do it, I'm honored to be tasked with such a thing but... I didn't _do_ anything there. I was just...there..."

"You said as such last night, but there was one other thing that you said: 'I've never fought a god before, but I guess I'll try.' You were prepared to fight Bahamut, weren't you?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Lysander grinned weakly. "I...sorta was. But truth be told, I was terrified out of my mind and I honestly expected to die there, either by Garlean weapons or Bahamut or something. It was just false bravado."

Raubahn's stare became stern. "None of us know how we will react in peril until it happens. I've seen people throw down their weapons and give up, others run away. Some are able to conquer their fear and stand firm. Further, it is often that others are the ones who decide whether our deeds are 'heroic' or not. You may not call yourself one, but I am certain that those whose lives you have changed would say otherwise."

Lysander mulled this over and shook his head, chuckling softly. "One small act of kindness to change someone's world. Well then..." Straightening up, he put his fists on his hips. "So I'm off to Gridania and Limsa, then? I don't think you expect me to walk, but even by chocobo or carts it's a bit of a long jaunt."

"As I'd like a reply back before the seasons change, no, lad. And while air travel has been severely limited due to the ever-present threat of imperial attack, for official purposes it is authorized. Further, I've got the feeling that anyone assaulting an airship that _you_ are on will regret their mistake in short order!"

This got another laugh out of Lysander. "Well, when would you have me depart? I'm heading out for Vesper Bay as soon as I'm finished here, if you'll pardon my forwardness, but should only be there a day or two while I settle affairs there."

"Return as soon as you are able, but do not rush," replied the general, reaching for something else on his table, "I am still composing the missives. In the meantime, I thank you for your service in advance, Lieutenant Morgensonne."

"Buh... I... It was _father_ who served, and he was a sergeant," Lysander said, feeling like he had lost track of something somewhere.

Raubahn approached, holding out the insignia for a Second Flame Lieutenant. "Aye, that he was. But officers are commissioned or given rank for valor and distinction. Further, it would grant your words more weight, having the strength of the Flames behind you."

"I... I just don't know if I have earned it."

Once more Lysander staggered when Raubahn clapped him on the shoulder. "All the more reason. You don't seek out power and fame, so you're not going to flaunt or abuse it. You could have exploited the situation with the crown to your own ends yet you put yourself in peril for no other reason than you felt it was the right thing to do. And...you were there, lad, standing with all of us at the end of the world. You were there of your own volition, ready to fight those who would destroy all that we hold dear." He laughed and grinned so hard it nearly connected his ears. "And I'd rather bind you to the Flames if I can, before the Adders or Maelstrom get their hooks in you."

Hesitating a moment longer, Lysander took the proffered item, and was surprised for how heavy it felt for something so small. He took a deep breath and saluted again. "I'll do the company proud, general." Another thought came to him and he tugged at the hem of his shirt. "Though I should probably find something nicer to wear, this is more suited for travel and getting into fights, not meeting with the heads of state."

"An excellent idea. I will have the messages for you when you return. And should your path be barred by man or beast, strike fast and true, for victory belongs to the bold."

Thancred leaned against the wall, enjoying the way the thick stone heated his back while the light warmed his face. He heard Lysander walk up and smirked at the slightly dazed look his companion had. "Got run a bit through the wringer?"

"The exact opposite, actually," Lysander replied, holding out the insignia for Thancred's inspection, "apparently I've been given rank in the Flames and a directive to visit the Seedseer and Admiral to work out an alliance and such. I'll tell you about it on the way there."

Eyebrows nearly in his hairline with surprise, Thancred carefully took the metal pin and turned it over in his fingers before handing it back. "You're certainly coming up in the world, that's no small honor. Well, everything is loaded and the cart is leaving in ten minutes, your timing is good." Boarding the cart that they had to themselves, Lysander got comfortable as best he could on the hard wooden bench and related the conversation with Raubahn. Sitting across from him, legs stretched out and one ankle crossed over the other, Thancred was relaxed but listened with rapt fascination. He whistled softly when Lysander was done, giving him that familiar cheeky grin. "Well, it looks like you'll be quite busy very soon. There shouldn't be too much to be done at the Sands, mostly getting everyone reacquainted and you familiar with our current mission. After that you should be able to take care of the general's request, which will give us time to get things set up on our end."

The cart shifted as the driver prodded the chocobo pulling it to a walk, then to a trot, and in moments they were out of the gates and on their way to Vesper Bay. Nodding, Lysander rested his elbows on his knees, hands between them, sagging for a moment as he felt the weight of upcoming responsibilities settle, but took a deep breath to settle himself. This did the trick, and he gave Thancred a scrutinizing look. "So, while I've got you captive, so to speak..."

This made Thancred twitch, and Lysander's lips quirked in a smile when the other man huffed and pretended to be annoyed. "I suppose that it's better than you tying me up. You seem to be the one that likes that sort of thing, as I recall."

"Heh! You do remember! Then I just want to sate my own curiosity. When we fought the masked person yesterday and I got knocked off the edge, you looked scared, but I guess that makes sense, since most people probably wouldn't have survived that sort of fall, or would have and just been badly hurt. But when I woke up after seeing your memories you said something about 'not again.' What was that about?"

Thancred went pale, then looked away, hugging himself tightly. "...Now I'd rather be tied up naked someplace public..."

"If you don't want to-"

"No. I..." He sighed and rubbed his own arms. "I had already lost my parents and been cast out on the street. It was by the kindness of Louisoix that I did not meet a terrible fate while far too young. You had suffered similar, and that is partly why I was drawn to you when you first joined the Circle. Though I did not remember our past together at that moment, _in_ that moment I recalled something, a part of our history together, and how much I cared for you. For those few seconds I remembered that you had been torn from us and you had returned, only to possibly be taken again and..."

"Ah..." Lysander looked out the window to give Thancred the chance to compose himself. "That makes sense. Emotions are powerful, and are often strongly tied to memories. Were our positions reversed I'd have done the same."

There was a lengthy, awkward silence between them for a few minutes as the scenery passed by, until Lysander cleared his throat and changed the topic, which Thancred gratefully took. It was as good a time as any to catch up on the last five years apart, especially since Lysander would likely be fielding the same questions and more from everyone else at their destination, so they might as well get their specific questions out of the way first. They talked the entire ride over, amused and intrigued by each other's travels and exploits in the time apart, and both made mental notes on further things they wanted to ask later when the cart pulled in to its stop at Vesper Bay. Disembarking, Lysander retrieved his luggage and followed Thancred to a very nondescript building by the water's edge at the far northwest of the port town. It was built in the Ul'dahn style of having one or two floors above ground with the rest dug down, to provide cooler areas away from the heat and sun. He traced his fingers along the carved sandstone, feeling no pull of memory. No, this was new, their old headquarters had been back in the merchant wards. Well, he wouldn't get answers standing outside, and Thancred had gone inside without him, so Lysander ducked inside the door, closing it behind himself. Of the rogue there was nothing to be seen, he had apparently gone down the stairs to the lower levels. Before Lysander could follow he noticed a Lalafell walk out from another room, carrying a kettle of hot water that she poured into a teapot on a table by the door. She hummed to herself, oblivious to his presence, and he had to stifle a laugh at himself; he had automatically hidden out of caution! Old habits really were difficult to break. He listened to her sing to herself, amused by her earnest rendition even if it was slightly-off key.

"Deep in the desert of my heart, a lonely flower blooms... Yearning for the heavens above, to quench my thirst for you..." She vocalized happily at the refrain, putting tea leaves in the pot and picking up the kettle again, likely to take it back where it had come from.

He allowed himself to be noticed again, leaning on the door frame, then gasped as a name came to his lips. "Ah! Tataru! It's been ages!"

The poor Lalafell jumped in place, nearly dropping the kettle, looking at him with shock. "Uwaaa!! I didn't even see you! How did you do that?!" Putting the kettle on the table, she stared at him intently. "...Wait, Thancred does that sometimes, are you-" She jumped up and down, waving her arms as she remembered him. "Oh! Oh!! It's you! You're back!" Lysander knelt as she ran over, accepting the hug he knew was incoming. "It's been five years, it's so good to- Wait, how did I forget you? And why do I remember you now?"

Squeezing her in a warm hug, Lysander stood up again, shifting his gear back into place. "I'll explain in a few, I'd rather have everybody else together so I only have to do it once. Well, assuming everyone _is_ here, that is."

"They are! Except for Thancred he-"

"He came in with me, I think he popped downstairs while you were grabbing the kettle."

Puffing our her cheeks in mock irritation, she put her fists on her hips, but still smiled. "He's always been sneaky like that, and now that I remember, so have you! Well! Don't disappear on us like that again!"

Holding out his hands in pretend defense, Lysander grinned even more widely. "No promises, luv, but I'll try. Lead on, my memories are coming back, too, but I'm still missing a few pieces here and there, and I've not been here before."

Tataru escorted him downstairs and through the main hallway with a proud, eager stride, knocking on the door at the end and pushing it open. "Minfilia! Guess who's back?!"

Seated at the large desk at the back of the room was a blond Highlander, though short and slim enough to be mistaken for a Midlander like himself. Blonde hair in an ornate, braided hairstyle was brushed out of the way when she looked up at her guests, and it took only a second for her to recognize the newcomer. "Is it really... Lysander!" She pushed back the chair and walked briskly around the desk to wrap him in a warm, sisterly hug. "You yet live, thank the Twelve. Although..." Her eyes crossed a little bit as she stared off, looking inwardly for a memory. "Yes, of course, how strange that we should all have forgotten, but perhaps it was for the best. Ah, and it seems that Tataru will be fetching the others. Please, set down your burdens for the moment, I would not have you stand there with it all after your travels."

With a grateful groan, Lysander put down the backpack and guitar by the door, relieved to be able to put it aside for a few minutes. "I wish we could have remembered, but, like you said, it's likely for the best. I've no idea how it worked, though, I... All I know is that he just channeled a terrifying amount of aether, the world went white, and I just...went elsewhere. I woke up and had no idea where I was or any memory of the last couple of years, everything that I had done with the Circle and the Path was just...locked away. I didn't remember anything until- Actually, like I told Tataru, I'll wait until everyone else gets here. Though that seems to have taken less time than I had expected."

A veritable parade of persons entered the room, the first being another Highlander female, though taller and stockier than her also-blonde companion (though that hair was mostly hidden under a very sturdy helm and visor). She stopped short, making the Lalafell following her bump into her legs, but before he could protest she gasped and hugged Lysander so fiercely his back popped. "Oh gods," he wheezed, "I'll pay you to do that again later..."

"Lys!! Oh! You're back!" She paused and let him go. "Wait, why do I remember you? And how did I forget?"

"That seems to be a question all of us are about to ask," replied a refined voice, stepping around the blockage in the doorway, "and agreed, it's good to see you again, but that we remember nothing until now is strange."

Like it had for Minfilia, the name came quickly to Lysander. "Y'shtola! Ha ha, it's been too long!" She was next to receive a hug, and he turned and knelt to offer one to the now-perplexed Lalafell who was just about to ask something. "Papalymo! You're well as well, so good to see you."

"Our names come quickly to thy lips, Lysander, despite the passage of time and loss of recollection," someone remarked, very amused, and he was the last to get a hug, though it made him blush.

"Urianger! Oh, I've missed you and your stories, we've got so much lost time to make up for!"

Clearing his throat softly, Urianger regained his composure. "Fain that I would, but our number seems to be one short, and thy tale is best told all at once."

"Nah, he's just being sneaky," Lysander grinned, bounding over to a shadow that was different from the rest, hugging it and pulling Thancred out of his stealth. With a laugh, he ruffled his companion's hair and kissed his cheek, making him turn nearly as red as Lysander's hair. "You were always good at that, but you've gotten amazing these last few years. Looks like everyone has been training hard. And I'm finally remembering us all and our adventures." He nodded to the first two who had entered. "Yda, remember when we were sparring and you clocked me so hard you knocked me out for a minute? You were terrified you had killed me!"

She groaned and put her face in her hands. "I do! You were so sweet about it but I really was scared that I'd hurt you badly!"

"And Papalymo, you were such a great teacher in helping me to master my elemental affinity." He conjured the dancing flame on his palm. "I'd been able to channel aether with a bit of focus, but you taught me how to use it properly, and it's been natural ever since."

Folding his arms across his chest, Papalymo nodded, looking smug. "You still have a long way to go to match my skill, but I'm certain that once we resume our training you will be a mage of great renown."

"And you, Y'shtola, when you tried to teach me conjury I ended up getting so frustrated that I ended up setting your sleeve on fire by accident, and you chased me outside and onto the roof!"

Chuckling, she put a hand on her hip and wagged a finger at him. "And I'll do it again if that happens again. Though that does explain this scorch mark I've been unable to remember the last five years."

Lysander grinned and sat on the edge of the desk. "You have the _best_ stories, Urianger, all of them. Whether fairy tales or tomes of history I remember that some of my favorite nights were spent curled up in a chair with you and just reading."

Clearing his throat again, Urianger looked a little embarrassed but pleased. "If that is thy desire then I shall be pleased to provide once more. 'Tis satisfying to share my passions with one who feels the same."

"And Thancred..." There was a momentary flash of terror across the other Hyur's features, and Lysander winked at him, a silent promise to keep quiet about certain aspects of their reunion. "He's the reason I'm back here with you all. Grab a seat, this'll take a bit..."

Everyone found chairs and listened with rapt fascination as Lysander wove them the story of his arrival in Ul'dah two days previous, starting at the Quicksand and ending at the Waking Sands. He noticed visible relief on Thancred's face when he had finished, having omitted the portions of their more intimate moments, and Yda applauded, bouncing with eagerness in her chair. "Oh! What fun! You always have the strangest adventures and tell the best stories, Lys, I'm so glad that we have you back."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Lysander blew out a sigh, thanking Tataru for bringing him a cup of tea, as the telling had somewhat dried him out. "I'm glad to be back. I feel like I found again the family I'd lost. It's good to see the Circle doing well."

He noticed Thancred wince and asked him what was wrong, and it was his turn to rub the back of his neck, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Ah, you wouldn't have known. After the Calamity we merged the Path and the Circle. We're the Scions of the Seventh Dawn now, and- What now?"

Lysander had burst out laughing, holding his sides and glad that he had the desk to support himself. He waved at his friend, trying to indicate that he wasn't laughing at _him_. "No, not you, luv, it's me. Morgensonne, remember?"

It took a moment for Thancred to process this before he laughed as well. "Ah, 'Morning Sun,' how fitting." He glanced at Minfilia, who chuckled politely and shook her head.

"I assure you that it's purely coincidental, the name was chosen well after our memories had become hidden. Although I do not dispute the possibility that there was some subconscious suggestion..."

Taking another long drink of his tea, Lysander sighed happily. "Well, however any of it goes, I'm glad to be with the Cir- Err, _Scions_ again, though I'll have to pop off in a bit before it gets too late to arrange lodgings."

"I'll take care of that," piped up Tataru, "we've rooms for everyone here, and there's a few unused still. Oh! We still have the rest of your things! We never knew who they belonged to so we never threw it all out when we moved here, but we had no idea whose they all were."

"Things? Like- Oh? Oh! Ha ha, wonderful!" Lysander drained his tea and handed the cup back to the clerk. "That's perfect, I had a couple of nice outfits in all of that, and I need one for the trip out to Gridania and Limsa in the next day or two. And... I had a weapon... A sword, it was..."

Once more Tataru jumped up and down. "Yes! That's it! I'll be right back!" She ran out of the room, almost bumping into the door in her hurry to open it, and Lysander chuckled at her enthusiasm.

"She always was excitable. Well, that's good to know, it would be a bother to find a spot in town to rent, and what with business here and elsewhere it'll be nice to have a place to come back to. ...Gods, it's been so long since I had that, it's going to be welcome but so strange to have a place to call my own, no matter how small."

He was interrupted when Tataru ran back in, slightly out of breath, and clutching a sword to her chest. "I found it, just where I'd put it when we first moved in, after we had found it with Tupsimati at Carteneau. I knew it was special!" She held it up for him to take, and his eyes went wide as he reached for it.

"I... I remember this, and the man who gave it to me..." Holding the weapon by the hilt, he ran his fingers over the delicate hand guard from pommel to the base of the blade, then along the, long, thin, pointed weapon to the tip. His voice was soft, speaking out loud as he walked through another memory that had risen to the surface. "He called himself a Red Mage. I had helped him, preventing kidnappers from taking a girl and her sister. We conversed and I asked to learn his style of fighting, and he saw in me the power for Red Magic. He gifted me with the sword and taught me to use the power within, rather than without as most mages do." He closed his eyes and held the weapon in both hands, and everyone got to their feet when the crystal around his neck began to glow brightly. "But there's more... I already knew somehow... Long before, long ago... In another life, it had been my calling..." The crystal pulsed with a blinding light and vanished, as did the sword, becoming a glowing sphere in his hand that pulsed again before twisting and elongating, as though it were being stretched and extruded. The light bent and was shaped by unseen forces, finally assuming its final shape before it vanished, leaving behind a new weapon; a rapier that shone white and gleaming, the point and edges sharp, its hilt a deep red and the hand guard now a warm gold. The pommel was the crystal that Lysander had worn just moments before, still wrapped in the thin gold wire, affixed firmly yet one had the impression that it could somehow be removed.

Thancred moved within a heartbeat when he saw Lysander sway on his feet, catching his friend and keeping him from collapsing. "What- Thal's balls, mate, I've never seen anyone do that before, what did you do?"

Leaning on Thancred for support for a moment longer, Lysander groaned and shook his head, still maintaining his hold on the new sword. "I... I have no idea. I just... _remembered_." Now able to stand again, he examined the new weapon with as much fascination as the others did. "I can't actually tell you anything about it, but I remembered wielding one of these in a past life, silly as it sounds." He traced the gold wire on the crystal and frowned. "This was in my hand when I woke up, five years ago. I didn't know what it was but kept it, knowing it was important but not why. It was just a pretty rock until recently, when I began having odd dreams. It's... You'll laugh, but I think it's...me. Crystallized memories or a fragment of myself, created after Louisoix sent me away. I... Oh wow, I can do a _lot_ , I've got some practicing to do."

Urianger stepped closer, silently asking permission, and Lysander handed over the weapon for further appraisal. "Thy conjecture is sound, master Morgensonne, and have you the energy and time tonight I wouldst speak with thee further on the subject."

"Gladly, I've got questions myself and- Oh, that's really interesting. If I'm right..." He stepped back and focused, and Urianger gasped when the weapon vanished in a swirl of white and violet, the crystal reappearing on the leather cord around the Hyur's neck. Lysander held it up by the cord and grinned as it swung gently, grinning from ear to ear. "Okay, _that_ is really nifty. I wonder if I've got memories of other weapons and techniques I can dig up."

"What- What is it that thou hast accomplished? The summoning of elementals and creatures is known to me, but weapons?"

Tucking away the crystal, Lysander hooked his thumbs in his belt, looking thoughtful. "I'm not sure how to describe it, but I've made it a part of myself? Like, it'll take a bit of my own aether to manifest, but I'll always have it handy when I need it and it'll never get lost, and when I call it I remember how to use it. Right now some of the techniques are fuzzy, but holding it I recall everything with perfect clarity. And I don't think it'll work on just anything." He drew his daggers and spun them with a flourish. "Like these, I remember how to use them because I've trained for damn near ten years with them, but I don't feel the pull of past memories like I did with the rapier. This is probably my first life I've ever used daggers, so I don't think I'll be able to pull off that ability with these weapons for a very long time. Though to get any farther with this I'll need to sit with you and Y'shtola and find out all we can about the Lifestream and aether and such, because I've had _no_ studies in those fields."

As he sheathed the daggers Y'shtola shook her head, hands on her hips, looking perplexed but amused. "We could scour all of Sharlayan for information and not find anything on this subject, but I'm willing to found the entire field of study should that skill of yours be more than a single one-off trick. But that is something to consider tonight. We all have business to attend before supper, and you likely would like to set up your quarters before the same."

With a grin and a chuckle, Lysander stretched, feeling slightly tired from all of the sudden excitement. "That sounds splendid, actually. Once I can get unpacked and some food in me I'll be ready for anything."

The other Scions said their temporary goodbyes, leaving Lysander with Minfilia, Tataru, and Thancred, and the Antecedent returned to her desk, frowning at the paperwork scattered atop it. "I must needs finish some work here before I am free to converse further, but with Thancred and Tataru you are in capable hands."

Lysander picked up his backpack and guitar, following after his companions. "I look forward to it, and it's good to see you again."

Back down the hallway and to the left they went, following Tataru through a set of double doors that marked the entrance to the living quarters. She stopped at one in particular and fished out a key, unlocking the door and opening it before pressing the key into Lysander's hand. "Here, I'll be right back, I'll get someone else to help grab the box with your things. You get things set up here."

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, Lysander reached for the panel that would activate the aether-powered light, then stepped inside giving Thancred room to do so. He rested the guitar against the wardrobe against the wall and his backpack next to it, taking stock of the sparse room; there wasn't much more than the wardrobe, a bed, a table and a chair, and a bookshelf, but it was enough for his needs. Smiling faintly, he looked around, already feeling at home. "Heh, Ul'dahn furnishings, just like with mother and father, and then in the merchant's quarters."

Arms folded across his chest, Thancred leaned against the wall, wearing a small, relieved smile. "It really is good to have you back. I care about the others like family, but..."

Lysander hugged him around the waist, pulling him close. "But they haven't lost what we have, nor in the same way. We love them as family, but even so, we still have to stay a bit apart, for their safety."

Nodding, Thancred returned the hug, able to relax now that the others had left for the moment. "It's good to not be alone anymore. You understand, why we are and what we do..."

"Aye. Just...take care of yourself. I remember you five years younger, and I can see the pain and weight that you carry now. You're working yourself too hard."

"I need to-"

Pulling away a little, Lysander cupped Thancred's face in his hand, stroking his cheek with the pad of his thumb. "No, I mean it. You've always worked yourself hard and thrown yourself in the way to protect others. I do the same thing, and I know it when I see it. That and..." He hugged him again, fingers digging into the other man's back. "I remember Silvertear, when that gunship fired on us, I was knocked flat and dazed, and you shielded me with your body." He felt Thancred shiver at the memory, his hands gripping more tightly as well. "You scared me, luv, I thought I was going to lose you. That's just one of many."

"I wasn't there for you..." whispered Thancred, "at Carteneau, you went with Louisoix and-"

"He asked you to pray for us," Lysander interrupted, kissing him just below the ear, on one of the tattooed marks, "he asked all of you because he knew that the faith that all of you placed in him would call down the aid of the Twelve. He trusted you to make the mission a success."

"...But it wasn't..." Thancred's voice cracked, and he buried his face in Lysander's shoulder. "Our faith wasn't enough. We lost the both of you, and the memories of you, because our faith wasn't strong enough-" Once more he was interrupted, this time by a warm, deep kiss. He resisted initially, but relaxed into it, taking only a moment to catch his breath when Lysander pulled away to return it. "...Please be careful. We- _I_ can't lose you again."

Huffing a sigh with a smile, he pressed his forehead against his companion's, gently tracing his fingers along the tattoo, making him shiver pleasantly. "I'll try. I really will. But, we know each other, we're both a bit stupid and honorable like that. ...And I know what you're thinking. It wasn't your fault. _Any_ of it. Stop it, luv, you don't need to carry the burdens of others, you already have enough of your own, and I'd take from you what I could if I could and you'd let me. But you'd do the same, I know. So let's just take care of ourselves first, then we can help each other. Okay?"

Thancred nodded, sharing one last kiss before pulling away, as they could hear people approaching. With his usual grin again, Lysander waved to Tataru as he pulled a few things out of his backpack. "Ah, h'lo again, mate, this is a lovely setup. Nothing big and fancy, just a place to rest at the end of the day and keep a few bits and bobs I'd rather not haul around with me, y'know? Ah, thanks to you, too!" he said as someone set down a very large box inside the door, waved in greeting, then went back down the hall, apparently busy with other tasks.

Looking immensely pleased, Tataru nodded with satisfaction. "I've got a few more things to take care of before supper, but Thancred can handle anything else that you need. Oh, and his room's next door, I just remembered. Lucky! Well, he knows where to find me if you need anything!"

She disappeared again and Lysander grinned, shaking his head as he opened the crate that held items that had been left in his room in the merchant's quarter. "I was right, I _do_ have a couple of nice outfits in here, that saves me a lot of time and gil. And books! Oh good, I've been wanting to read these stories again, and I couldn't remember where I'd read them in the first place!" Thancred assisted him with emptying the crate's contents, putting items where they needed to go, but not organizing anything. That could happen later, for now, things just needed to be put away. Fifteen minutes later, Lysander's backpack was empty and hanging in the wardrobe along with the other clothes, books were on the shelf, and other miscellaneous items were in a drawer inside the wardrobe. He knuckled his back as he straightened up, checking the chronometer on the wall. "Well, still not quite time for supper, but enough for a quick tour of the place if you'll indulge me."

Thancred was happy to do so, showing the new Scion where everything was and the layout of the facility. It was quickly memorized, as was his wont, and all of his questions were anticipated and answered before he could ask. He remarked on it, and Thancred chuckled with embarrassment, not realizing that he had done so. By the time they were finished it was time to eat, and they gratefully sat down to stew and warm bread, with dark red wine. Lysander said nothing until after his second bowl and glass. "This was fantastic. Like I said, I already feel at home. Well, I've got a couple of hours left in me, so if you two are still up for it I'll try to answer any questions I can before I pass out," he said, directing his remark at Y'shtola and Urianger.

The three of them reconvened by the fire, the Scions taking seats in plush chairs and Lysander sitting by the fire, infusing it with his aether and playing with it, amusing himself by creating shapes and making the flames dance to his will. They were joined by Thancred after a few minutes, but only Lysander noticed at first. They talked mostly about the strange ability he had manifested in the Solar earlier, which led to conjecture, then speculation, and much hemming and hawing as Urianger and Y'shtola took notes, muttering to and between themselves at various books they would need to reference. Their work was interrupted by a soft snore, and Lysander smothered a laugh; Thancred had tried to follow the conversation for a while, but had eventually given in to wine and a good meal, his head resting against one armrest and his legs draped over the other. Standing up, Lysander brushed himself off. "It _is_ a bit late, and I'm feeling rather talked out, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, master Morgensonne," Urianger smiled, carefully setting aside the page he was writing on to dry, "thy insight hath given me much about which I must needs study, and perhaps may lead to new insights. Would that we could converse all night, but thou hast business on the morrow that requires thee to rest."

"True. And please, call me Lysander, or Lys, I feel so weird being called 'master' like that."

Y'shtola snickered and stood up, arms full of papers, and gestured to Urianger to give her what he had. "Here, _Lys_ will need help getting Thancred to bed, and much as I want to wake him up and have him go under his own power, he's been running himself ragged lately."

Agreeing, Urianger handed over his work, then knelt by the chair to carefully scoop up the dozing Hyur. Lysander gestured for Urianger to follow, trying not to smile too broadly at how gently the taller man moved. "Here, his room's next to mine, I'll get his door for you."

"Ah, my thanks, master- Lysander."

They made their way in mutual silence; not because they didn't want to talk, but because they understood how to share a comfortable silence. At their rooms, Lysander opened the door, fumbling once more for the light panel, then got out of Urianger's way. He bit his lip and smothered another giggle, noticing how Urianger ensured that Thancred wouldn't wake up when transferred to the bed, and made sure that he would be comfortable. "Does he know?"

The Elezen jumped at the question, his expression somewhat hidden by the goggles and hood of his robes, but Lysander smirked, knowing he had been right. "Of what dost thou speak?"

Rolling his eyes, Lysander strolled out and waited for the other man to turn off the light and follow. "Don't play dumb, it doesn't look right on you. That you care about him, it's obvious when nobody else is looking."

His remark had hit the mark, and once more Urianger flushed softly, coughing into his sleeve nervously. "Thancred is a dear companion and-"

"Come off it," Lysander giggled, cuffing his shoulder playfully, "you're hardly in love but you do care about him deeply. Fine, I won't pry, none of my damn business, but... I think it'd mean a lot to him to know that you worry about him."

"...I shall consider mentioning it. Further, lest thee hath worried, thy true relationship is known only to myself. Should others suspect I know not, for such a thing hath yet to be mentioned in my presence."

Lysander hugged him once more, squeezing tightly. "Thanks, luv, I don't care who knows who I get intimate with, but he does. I'll protect that as best I can, and him."

Returning the hug, Urianger seemed to be relieved. "Well glad am I to have thee returned to us. He hath been lost and in a state of despair these last five years. That he now hath one who cares for him once more to protect his health and heart eases the burden on mine own."

This produced a pleasant ache, and Lysander blinked back tears. "Thanks, it's good to hear I'm already doing good things already." Standing up a bit taller, he kissed his friend's cheek, mostly to see him turn red again. "I'm not far behind him, I'm going to pass out now. It's great to be back."

With one last hug, Urianger took his leave and Lysander returned to his room, which was already feeling like home. He undressed languidly and put his clothes in a hamper to get laundered, stretched again, turned off the light, and crawled beneath the sheets. The bed was comfortable, the blankets warm, and the pillow soft. It was hardly luxury, but it was exactly what he needed and wanted, and he couldn't ask for more. He yawned, idly stroked the crystal with his fingers as he let his mind drift, and was asleep in minutes. For the first time in years he slept not only deeply but restfully, dreaming of fond memories and events past.

_Home..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.//


	7. On Westerly Winds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Okay, I'm posting this way later than I wanted to, but I lost a couple of days of writing to IRL shenanigans. But! I'm happy with what I've got here, so ehh, can't argue with results. So! For a couple of notes, first, Lysander basically wears [this outfit](https://imgur.com/NymaLy2) for this chapter, with that same hairstyle. He's not gonna change his hair until late HW or so, I think, because story reasons. That was also my RDM glam for, like, damn near a year, as I used that late into StB and until I got YorHa pieces, so I REALLY like it. Second, the person he runs into (gets glomped by) is another of my OCs, [Risukage Hayakaen](https://imgur.com/K1ghIZF), my _first_ one, in fact, created back during vanilla WoW, so she's been around a LONG time. In FFXIV she's a Hingan shinobi and plays a much bigger role in his RP story than she will in this one. While she acts as an older sibling for him and most of the Rogues, she's in her mid-40s, as she came to Limsa about twenty years or more previous (long story there) in her late teens and liked it so much she decided to stay. Thirdly, during their conversation, the salad remark? That happened to me several times in my Sims 3 game, and I can't even. JUST HOW. As such, it had to be referenced here, because they really are bad cooks. XD
> 
> Right, enough chatter, on with the story!//

Lysander slept _very_ well, waking rested and in good spirits, although it _did_ take him a minute to remember where he was. Again. Sitting in bed in the darkness, he closed his eyes and reached out with his senses, taking a few moments to really register the room as “home.” The soft, dark scent of the wooden furniture, the quiet ticking of the chronometer on the wall, the warmth of a comfortable room that also wasn’t hot… He smiled to himself and got up, palmed the light panel, stretched his arms over his head, and decided that he really should find trousers to deal with his morning requirements. A soft pair of bottoms in a rich, dark green, made for sleeping in, were pulled out of the wardrobe and put on, then a towel and some toiletries were obtained.

From the muffled sounds filtering in from the double doors to the main rooms, it sounded like the Waking Sands was busy at all hours of the day, but thankfully, that bustle did not extend to the sleeping quarters. The shared bathroom was at the far end of that wing of the building, and he found himself alone for the moment. Taking care of an immediate biological need, he then went to a sink with a mirror over it, examining himself to see if he would be presentable for the day’s journey. He scrubbed a thumb over his chin and huffed a chuckle, then perked up when he saw Thancred stroll in, muffling a yawn with a fist in his mouth, and attired similarly to himself, though Thancred wore his trousers from the night before instead of sleepwear.

“Ah, h’lo luv, sleep well? We put you away with your clothes on, felt it might be odd to strip you down ourselves,” said the copper-haired man, reaching for the soap.

Blinking, Thancred gave him a lopsided smile and rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced in a mirror as well. “Ah, that explains it. Wait, ‘we’?”

“Mm, Urianger and I,” Lysander replied as he mixed the soap with water and began to wash his face, “you passed out in the chair so we just called it a night at that point.”

Lysander pretended not to notice the small, embarrassed, but pleased blush that momentarily gave color to Thancred’s cheeks. The other man examined him and looked amused. “I don’t think I’ve seen you shave these last few days but you’ve not picked up any stubble. And as far as I can remember when we were still the Circle you never did then, either.” He dragged a nail over his own scruff and took up residence at the sink next to Lysander.

“I’m weird like that, I don’t get bristly until, like four days after, and even then I don’t get a lot. Like, even what Urianger has is beyond my ability to grow, and I actually tried once. I’m not bothered, it’d probably look weird on me anyroad.” He paused to wash off the soap and grinned, poking Thancred’s cheek. “Now, _you_ could make it look good, something close-trimmed and tidy would make you quite dashing.”

Rolling his eyes, Thancred playfully waved the straight razor at him in mock warning and prepared to deal with his own morning preparations. “You are an absolute bother. Go on, you’ve places to be.”

With a grin, Lysander ensured that the last of the soap had been washed off, dried himself, and gathered everything before heading back to his room. Everything was put back so he could retrieve a hairbrush and take care of the tangles he’d picked up during the night, taking a look at his available clothes while he did so. He didn’t have _much_ , but what he did have was a small selection of different outfits for different needs, and one in particular would suit him nicely for meeting with the leaders of the Grand Companies. His hair now brushed to his satisfaction, he redid the small plait behind his left ear (he already liked that look!) and got dressed, humming to himself.

A black, short-sleeved shirt with slightly ruffled sleeves was covered with a snug waistcoat in white, closed with gold-colored buttons, and adorned with a couple of delicate chains that just so happened to match the one he usually wore at the top of his left ear. Black slacks with clean lines and similar chains and stitching flattered his tall, toned figure, and he was pleased to find that his usual collection of pointy objects could be hidden about this outfit with ease. Save for the fans, he didn’t have the long sleeves for them, but he was able to secure them along the sides of his trousers, along with the cigarette case in a back pocket. Ensuring that everything fit comfortably and didn’t look bulky or out of place, he sat to put on a pair of dressy shoes in black and white; he usually preferred boots, but he was making an effort to make a good first impression, and since he was travelling by airship he could wear something a little more formal since he wouldn’t be walking as much.

After a moment of consideration, he retrieved a flat cap in the same black as the ruffled shirt, with an enameled pin on the left side in the shape of a stylized heart, made of red and gold metal, which secured a couple of small black feathers for flair. Earrings and a black leather choker with the same stylized hearts were added to complete the look, and he took a minute to make sure that while he was presentable he wasn’t going overboard with the look. However, the ensemble looked stylish and professional, and wouldn’t be out of place where he was going. He remembered that he would be carrying things and grabbed a messenger bag, doing one last mental check of everything he would need or want to wear. The usual chain was attached to the piercings on the left side, the Flames insignia was pinned to a lapel, and he grabbed a pair of fingerless half-gloves with more of the same chained frippery that the rest of his outfit had, pausing outside the door to put them on and make sure that the wristbands buckled properly.

Thancred had also just finished dressing, though in his usual garb, and nodded politely as he left before pausing to stare, a little surprised at his friend’s choice of outfits. With a grin, Lysander put his hands on his hips and shifted his weight to one leg for best effect. “Like what you see?”

“Yes,” Thancred replied automatically, then made a choking sound and waved his hands. “That is, I-”

“That’s exactly the reaction I wanted, thanks, luv,” snickered the dancer, hugging him and kissing his cheek, “something to make a good first impression but not be too fancy. I’m off to find a cup of tea before I bounce for the city. Cheers!”

Looking a little dizzy, Thancred managed a weak reply without thinking about it, and Lysander again hummed to himself as he strode down the hall, seeking the kitchen. He found his desired cup of tea and decided to take a minute to enjoy it, since it was likely going to be a long, busy day, and went to the common room. Urianger was back in the chair he had occupied the night before, and Lysander nearly went to greet him, but hesitated when he saw that the Elezen was entertaining guests. Two other Elezen, actually, and twins at that. He wasn’t terribly good at guessing ages, but given their height and faces they were older teenagers, and a brother-sister pair, though it would be hard for most other people to tell as they dressed almost exactly the same. He was bad with ages but good with body types, something that had always amused him.

Urianger noticed him out of the corner of his eye (impressive, given the goggles he wore), and beckoned him over with a smile. “Ah, Lysander, thou art quite a well-dressed figure today, such a thing suits thee. Pray, meet our guests, they hath only just arrived.” The twins looked up and got up at the same time, though the looks they gave him were slightly different; the boy was curious and the girl was scrutinizing, but even so, there was a way to the manner in which they both mentally weighed him that was interesting. “Alphinaud and Alisaie Leveilleur, grandchildren of the Archon Louisoix.”

They bowed politely, and Lysander returned it (while being mindful of his tea), and was about to say something when that name punched him in the gut. “Wait, you’re his- Oh… I’m… I’m so sorry, I…”

Once more, their expressions were similar; confused yet curious, and Lysander clutched his tea in both hands. Shaking his head, Urianger gestured for them all to sit. “Nay, there is no sin in thy actions, Lysander, the choice to stay or run was taken from thee.” He turned back to the twins. “This is the man that fought with thy grandsire at Carteneau, Lysander Morgensonne, and it is only in the last few days that he hath been back in our company. Further, after ruminating upon our conversation, I am certain that ‘twas not into the Lifestream that thee were dispatched, but to the Rift.”

Lysander nearly dropped his tea and the twins gasped, talking over each other to ask questions, which were silenced with a wave of the scholar’s hand. Making sure he’d not spilled on himself, Lysander gestured haphazardly at Urianger, trying to organize his thoughts. “Wait, the _Rift_?! As in, the space between worlds? Seven hells, I hardly know anything about your fields of study but even I know that I shouldn’t have survived that!”

“Thy existence here and now proveth otherwise,” he replied with a wry grin, “further, from the studies I made of the location after the Calamity and knowing of his abilities it is not as far-fetched as thou art inclined to think. It was safer than sending thee directly into the Lifestream, thus freezing thee in time and preventing harm until thou couldst be brought back to our world safely someplace else. It was then that thee traveled through the Lifestream, obtaining thy trinket of protection, returning safely albeit without memory. And perhaps that was for the best for us all as well, as it is now that thee art needed. Ah, forgive me, I do not mean to imply that-”

“It’s okay, I get what you mean. While I know we all wish I could have been here sooner and things, just… After the Calamity and everything getting rebuilt and all, I’d have been, well, in the way. And I’d have been eaten up with guilt about failing my mission like that, so-”

It was Urianger’s turn to interrupt, putting a hand over Lysander’s. “Thy mission did not end in failure, rather, it changed. By Thaliak’s grace he saw the future and where thee wouldst be needed most, sending thee to a place to prepare and then to us when ready. Be joyful of our reunion, Lysander, thou hast mourned thy past long enough.”

“Grandfather really sent you away?” asked Alphinaud, looking awed, “and into the Rift? We watched the battle from Sharlayan, but when Bahamut broke free of Grandfather’s bindings our instruments were flooded with aether and we lost contact with everyone here for weeks. But nobody mentioned anything about you, and you said that nobody remembered you?”

Sipping his tea, Lysander shrugged sadly. “We all forgot. Even I did. He did it on purpose, to protect everybody, and like Urianger said, none of us remembered anything until I got back here yesterday. Thancred and I recalled it earlier, thanks to some weird Echo memory a couple of days back, and I’m still feeling pieces slide into place. It’s going to be a while before I have everything back. And I hate to be rude, but speaking of moving pieces, I’ve got to get going. I need to get the missives from Raubahn and then make it to Limsa and hopefully Gridania today. I probably won’t be back until some time tomorrow.”

“But you’ll tell us all about your adventures with grandfather when you get back, right?” asked Alisaie, and Lysander grinned at her enthusiasm.

“Of course, now that I can actually remember it all! In the meantime, Urianger can fill you in with what he can. I remember he often wrote to someone in Louisoix’s homeland, which I guess was you, so you probably already know mostly everything, though.”

“There art always stories to share,” Urianger smiled, patting Lysander’s hand, “and thine can be told upon thy return. Be well, friend, I would not lose thee again.”

With one last gulp Lysander finished his tea, then leaned over to give his friend a hug. “Of course, all of you are too precious to forget again.” He hesitated a moment, not quite sure how to react to the new arrivals, but they appeared to be the sort accustomed to such affection, and readily accepted hugs as well. “Start thinking of your questions now, I’ll be back in a day or two!” he laughed, heading back to the kitchen to wash and put away the mug. This complete, he stopped by the Solar to inform Minfilia of his departure, and once more well-wishes and hugs were exchanged, also by Tataru, who was assisting with some sort of administrative upkeep.

Ten minutes later he boarded a cart headed for Horizon. It wasn’t terribly close to Ul’dah, but it did have an aetheryte that he could use to leap straight to the city. While he knew the aetheric signature of his former home almost instinctively and wasn’t carrying any gear like he had when traveling previously, it still took a lot of aether to try to jump directly to it from this distance. Utilizing one aetheryte to hop to the other took much less power and reduced the chance for him to completely ass up the transit. The fact that Vesper Bay was too small for such a thing meant that getting back to the Waking Sands was going to be a right bother, but he’d deal with that later. For now…

The ride to the trade hub in Western Thanalan was smooth and relatively swift, and Lysander disembarked quickly, making his way to the aetheryte. Not everyone had the ability to use the network outside of the main cities; smaller aetherytes allowed for faster travel within them if an individual could attune to them correctly, but transport between the larger ones was much more difficult, and therefore perilous. He did this often enough, and again, he had no cargo to carry (which would increase the aether needed to travel and make it exhausting!), so he reached out with his aether, connecting to the giant blue crystal in the center of the plaza and feeling himself resonate with it. With practiced skill, he next sought the one in Ul’dah, and- There, he could feel it, and “see” the aetheric pathway between the two, all he had to do was just tap into it and touch the Ul’dahn crystal, and it would pull him along.

He made contact with his destination, and fell apart into countless motes of light, his thoughts and self dissociating for the few seconds it took to move between the two locations, feeling himself coalesce and become solid once more in the solid, cool shade of the primary aetheryte in Ul’dah, just around the corner from the Hall of Flames. Checking himself to ensure that he had arrived properly (of course he did, that was the benefit and reason for using the network, after all!), he took the steps and ramp up to the Steps of Thal, blinking in the bright morning sunlight as he emerged. Greeting the Flames along the way politely, he made his way along the same path that he had taken the day before, being admitted again to the general’s office after knocking to announce his presence.

“Lysander, you are much earlier than I had expected,” grinned Raubahn, already inundated with paperwork of his own (something that Lysander found quietly amusing, and wondered if all great heroes got bogged down with signing requests and forms!), and as he stood he picked up two sealed messages and another letter that Lysander couldn’t quite identify. Snapping off a salute, Lysander tried to tamp down a smug smile.

“I was able to use the aetheryte at Horizon and skip the long part of the trip, it saved me quite a bit of time.”

Raubahn nodded and handed over the letters, which Lysander put in his bag. “I had thought that you might, as trying to ‘port all the way here from Vesper Bay would be highly taxing upon you.”

“Aye, and I can’t exactly pop out to Limsa the same way, even with multiple hops through closer hubs, even if I am mostly unburdened.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve got you an airship,” rumbled the Highlander in a deep chuckle, “and these as well. Unless something has come up and taken all of their time then the seal on these should allow you priority to speak with the Admiral and Seedseer.” He then gave him a letter authorizing official use of the airships. “There is no hurry, take your time and travel safely. They will respond at their leisure and ability, so there’s no need to remain behind, save for your own reasons.”

The letter joined the other two in the bag and Lysander gave one last salute. “Then I’ll be on my way, sir, I hope to return with good news.”

Walking briskly, Lysander left the Hall, going southeast and up the steps that led to the Ruby Bazaar, much as he had the other day to the palace. Unlike the other day, he got on the lift just past the merchants’ stalls and rode it up to the airship landing, laughing at himself for feeling excited. He’d never done this before, the view was going to be so amazing! With a smile he removed the letter from his bag and presented it to the Hyur behind the counter, who was wearing livery that looked familiar but he couldn’t recognize. She examined both it and him warily, then warmed visibly once she had confirmed his credentials.

“Ah, you are the adventurer that the General has authorized passage.” She handed back the letter and allowed him to pass, gesturing to doors that led outside. “The landing is through there, and our engineers are preparing for departure. Pay attention to and comply with all crew directives, as while it should be a safe enough journey, if something does go wrong then they are the ones that will deal with it, not you.”

He agreed, and as he walked by he noticed the insignia on her sleeve, a spoked wheel in black on an orange field, the sort used for steering ships (in water and air), and again a memory flickered but nothing caught. Chalking this up to another thing he’d eventually recall (but was going to annoy him in the meantime), he exited the doors and paused, marveling at the lightweight skiff that was docked high above the city. It was clearly made for swift travel, not for cargo, and likely not the comfort of its passengers, and while he was far from an engineer he could tell that it was a relatively new design and make.

He was greeted by one of the flight engineers, who escorted him aboard and began to explain flight procedures, stepping aboard and getting him strapped safely into one of the seats. The crew roamed about on deck, though they were tethered with safety lines and harnesses, and there was an orderly manner to the chaos and noise as the crew made final preparations to depart. Lysander watched with curious fascination, amused at how their rolling, fluid stride resembled that of sailors on a seagoing ship. Finally, the all-clear was given and the moorings cast off as the engine was spun up, nudged away from the boarding platform until it was completely clear of the tower and able to slowly gain altitude. Only once they were high enough to avoid all buildings did they finally bank toward Limsa and engage the engines fully. Reflexively, Lysander grabbed the armrests as they accelerated, not expecting this much power and speed, and laughed at himself, letting go and enjoying the trip. This was so familiar, yet again, he had traveled like this before. But when?

Thinking hard, nothing came to mind, just fleeting fragments of emotion, but they weren’t that old. Damn. He grimaced to himself. More things from before the Calamity that were still hidden from him. But that also made him wonder how and why he would have used one, as while they had traveled a lot in the Circle he didn’t-

Wait, there was a companion of theirs, someone skilled with engineering of all sorts, he had lent them his aid, and-

Damn, the memory was gone, a wisp of candle smoke that faded just as quickly. With a sigh he shrugged to himself. He’d figure it out later, he’d just give himself a headache worrying about it right now. Besides, it really was lovely from up here, and he wasn’t sure if or when he would get to do something like this again. The crew paid him no mind, tending to their own tasks, and from the way they discussed things and wrote them down while gesturing about other things it was clear that this was definitely a new design and they were testing them out. Some people would have found this worrying, but Lysander figured that they’d not risk untested and dangerous tech with an official envoy.

Ah hour or more later (Lysander had quite lost track of time!) Limsa came into view, and the crew throttled down the engines to a cruising speed while they contacted the destination tower and requested permission to dock. It was granted, and like they had left Ul’dah, but in reverse, the engines were cut off as they approached, gliding in under their own power. Once more the engines came back on, but in reverse, slowing them to a stop as they descended, and the ship was guided in the rest of the way with ropes thrown to the crew on the platform. Only when the craft was completely docked and secured was Lysander allowed to unstrap himself and disembark, and he stretched as he got up, feeling exhilarated.

“Um, I’ve no idea how long I’ll be,” he remarked to whomever looked to be in charge, “should I…”

The Lalafell looked up at him, fists on her hips. “Take your time and come back when you need to move on. We’ve got crews in all three cities working on this new class of ships, so there’ll be a runner and engineers to work it when you need to head out again. In the meantime, we’re doing some maintenance and calibration after this flight, we’re going to get some really good data out of it!”

This was a subtle prod to get going and to not worry about hurrying, so he excused himself with his thanks and departed the landing, heading to the lift on down to Bulwark Hall, the main entrance to the city from via the eastern gate. As he recalled, the Admiral’s office, the Bridge, was on the other side of the Hall, so he’d be able to pop directly on over and _not_ have to go all the way across the city. As he exited, he paused a moment to get his bearings, took a few steps, and then felt a tickle at the back of his mind as he noticed something. Stopping, he turned on his heel, growling in his throat. “Damnit, must you always- HWOOF!!”

The wind was knocked out of him as he was pounced from above, but whomever had done it knew what they were doing and ensured that he wasn’t hurt when they hit the ground, hugging his face to their chest as they laughed happily. “Lys!! Eee! It’s been so _long_ ! And _you_ of all people have an airship? Just what have you been doing? Or who?” This last question was asked with a giggle and a smirk, and Lysander sat up when he was finally allowed to do so, removing his cap as it had been knocked askew. He stuck his tongue out at his companion, and the blonde Midlander laughed harder, sitting on her haunches and grinning ear-to-ear.

“Yes it has, no I don’t, it’s a long story, and it’s none of your business,” he huffed, unable to hide a grin of his own at her enthusiasm, “good to see you again, Risu, though I’d have preferred to _not_ have landed on my arse as soon as I got here.”

“Meh! You got a face full of cleavage out of it, I figured that that would soften the blow,” she shrugged, and he rolled his eyes as he put his cap back on.

“That was nice but it’s my arse that I landed on and therefore _that_ needed the padding. Besides, I know you don’t get anything out of that sort of thing so it seems a bit wasted.” He accepted a hand to stand up, brushing himself off, but was unsurprised to see that nothing was damaged or dirtied, as was Risu’s Rogue’s Guild “uniform” in dark greens. He felt a small twinge of longing, remembering wearing the same thing long before and somewhat missing it.

Shrugging again, she folded her arms across her chest, smirking up at him. “And you’re one of the few that would be polite about it instead of getting grabby hands without asking first, so lucky you. Also! How _did_ you know it was me?”

“You giggle,” he replied, sticking his tongue out at her again, “when you’re really excited about something you get this soft, tiny giggle that you can only hear if you know to listen for it. And on that note, how did you know _I_ would be here?”

With a feigned pout, she looked playfully annoyed. “Oh poo, and usually I’m the sneakiest one in the guild, too. But honestly, I didn’t know it was you until you walked out. Airships are rare enough to warrant investigating because they’re only used for highly official or time-sensitive missions, what with the Imps being sky-hoarding whoresons.”

“So you figured it was a good idea to find out who it was and why in case it would involve the Guild at some point, aye?”

She winked at him and grinned. “Got it in one! So! I’ve gotta ask you again, what have you been doing that warrants official travel? And by the Flames no less?” The insignia had been noticed and noted, and Lysander snickered. Nothing got by her!

“It’s a really long story, but the short of it is that the General tasked me with asking the Admiral and Seedseer about holding ceremonies in remembrance of the Calamity.” He nodded in the direction he needed to go and was happy to see her fall into step next to him, just like old times. “Nothing perilous or filled with intrigue, sorry to say,” he teased, earning another laugh, “but how I _got_ here is. If you don’t mind hanging out a bit I can fill you in once I’m done here. I’ll be out to Gridania next, but I think that the engineers will appreciate a little more time to work.”

“Just enough time for me to pinch a snack from the Guild and maybe some tea, if you’re interested,” she offered, and beamed when he accepted the offer. “Spiffy! And don’t worry, I won’t make it, everyone there knows that we’re the best at sneaking but the _worst_ at cooking. Jacke _still_ gives me side-eye when it looks like I might be preparing anything more complex than milk in my coffee.”

“At least you didn’t set the stove on fire, they threatened to drown me in the harbor if I ever tried to cook again!”

“You were making a salad, _how?!_ ”

“I don’t know!!”

They laughed at their past selves and shared memories, and Risu hugged him when they stopped in front of the Admiral’s office. “I’ll meet you by the gate, then, we can have a nibble in the sun and look at the water and things, yeah?”

She bounded off with a stride and speed that spoke of the skill and confidence of someone accustomed to leaping across rooftops and swinging from ropes, and Lysander had to bite his lip to not laugh at the way the guards at the door warily watched her leave, having recognized the livery of a Rogue. They turned that same gaze on him, and he smiled politely, reaching into his bag for the message for the Admiral; the small display of friendly affection wasn’t just because she was glad to see him, it was a small nod to the Yellowjackets that the Guild was aware of his presence and that he was considered to be under their protection. While the guards didn’t necessarily approve of the Rogues they begrudgingly accepted their existence and what they did for the city’s peace.

“Good afternoon! I am here on behalf of Flame General Raubahn, and I seek an audience with the Admiral if it is possible.” The seal passed muster, and like Risu, his insignia was recognized. They remained vigilant but allowed him passage inside, where he was scrutinized by one last pair of guards, who escorted him in and announced his presence. The Admiral looked up from a stack of paperwork eerily similar to that with which Raubahn had been working, and granted them leave to depart, though the guard already inside remained at his post, watching him for anything untoward. She stood, looking him up and down, scrutinizing him with a stern keenness that made him stand up straighter for a moment.

“So the silver-tongued merchants send an adventurer to speak for them. It appears the Ul'dahns place great faith in you.” She allowed herself a small smile as she glanced at his insignia again. “Or at the least, Raubahn does. I bid you welcome, adventurer, I am Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, Admiral of Limsa Lominsa, and commander of the Maelstrom. I would know your name now that you have mine.”

Rendering a salute (something told him she would prefer that to a bow) he offered a polite smile. “Lysander Morgensonne, ma’am, of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.” He wasn’t sure why he had added that last bit, it felt oddly like a reflex, but it had the effect of amusing the Admiral.

“A Scion, you say? I was unaware that they had begun moving so openly with the Immortal Flames.” She frowned and stared at him again. “...Strange. I would readily have sworn that I knew you, but it seems I was mistaken.”

“Ah! Apologies, ma’am, I am here at Raub- The General’s behest,” he replied, catching himself quickly, but the mistake further amused her so he pressed on. “And I am relatively new to the Scions, so I can’t speak of our current motives or mission, but I was with the Circle before the Calamity, so it’s possible that- Um, oh dear…”

At his mention of both “Circle” and “Calamity” she looked puzzled, as if remembering something she hadn’t realized she had forgotten, then grimaced and pressed a hand to her temple. The guard had his hand on his sword hilt and was three steps toward Lysander when she raised her other hand, a silent gesture for the guard to halt his advance. “Stay your blade, though your instincts were correct. He has done nothing to me save dredging up memories that had been taken from me.” She shook her head to clear it and stared at him again, this time with determination. “I remember you now. You stood with us at Carteneau, next to Louisoix as he attempted to halt the fall of Dalamud, and then to bind the monster that had been sealed within. But he was lost to us when that binding failed, and we remember that he stood alone. Forgive my confusion, but how did you survive and why did I not recall you until now?”

“He...sent me into the Rift,” Lysander replied, not sure if she would believe his story, “just after the sealing spell with the Twelve failed he did...something, I don’t know what exactly, I just vanished and reappeared somewhere else some time later with my memory full of holes. I didn’t remember anything myself until a few days ago. Whatever he did removed me from everyone’s memories, too, even the Circle’s, and it seems like people only remember once I’ve met them again. I can’t explain it, and… Ah, well, I’m here to deliver a request.” He pulled out and handed over the message, continuing as she broke the seal and read its contents. “Raubahn plans to arrange for a remembrance service on the anniversary of the Calamity. He hopes that you and the Elder Seedseer could arrange the same within your own cities. Even though Eorzea has rebuilt for the most part in the five years since, he thinks that we need to...um...”

He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling as though he had said too much when it wasn’t his place, but relaxed when the corner of her lips quirked into a smile as she looked up from the letter. “And Raubahn sent you along to not only make me remember but to ensure that _everyone_ remembers. Well, maybe not remember you in particular, but the events that caused the end of the world, and all that we lost. So many good people…” She sighed, and her face and voice softened as she set down the letter.

“Never have I seen a fight like the Battle of Carteneau- and I have seen full many. But though we gave no quarter, spared not one onze of effort we could not prevent what followed. From inside the shell of Dalamud came a winged nightmare, a dragon the size of a bloody city. In the space of a breath, the legions of the Empire were set aflame, while our own armies fared little better. 'Twas as if the whole world was burning…” A hand clenched into a fist, quiet anger at the helplessness of her position back then. “Words cannot well describe the scene. And yet, by some miracle, a few among us were spared. Even as I steeled myself for death, my mount shot out from under me and a Garlean legion bearing down upon us, a blinding white light enveloped me, robbing me of my senses. When I regained them, the dragon was gone, and the still-smoldering land was warped beyond all knowing.”

Her jaw now tightened, resolute and determined. “Damn it all, we need champions to replace those we lost... But such thoughts are worse than worthless. Time is short, and none will save us, save ourselves.” She folded her hands behind her back and paced slowly behind her desk. “It is the duty of every soul who survived the Calamity to work together for the good of Eorzea...and this memorial service may be the very thing to unite us. Hmph.” She favored Lysander with an amused smile. “Aye, Raubahn has the right of it. I accept his proposal, a ceremony shall be done, and the preparations shall begin with all due haste. Your duty is done here, I will see to it that the Flame General receives my reply. Clever old goat, and he got you pinned before we even had the chance to make you an offer, bloody cheeky, that. Having the Warrior of Light loyal to the Flames will do fantastic things for morale, and I can’t say I begrudge him wanting that.”

Once more a little worried, Lysander wasn’t certain how to answer. “Ah, well, to be fair, my father was a Flame as well, but before that they had fought together at Ala Mhigo, and he had died in service to the Flames, so it’s- Um, sorry, I don’t mean to bother you with…”

Her hawklike stare pinned him to the spot, and the way she tilted her head to the side as she examined him again reinforced his impression. “...Ala Mhigo? Really. I see… I didn’t give him enough credit, I’ll not underestimate him again. Well, you travel next to Gridania, yes?”

The change in subject caught him off-guard, but he recovered with a rush of relief that he hadn’t offended. “Ah, yes, ma’am, once the airship and its crew are ready I’ll be heading off again.”

Her smile became even more amused, and she chuckled under her breath. “Then please give my regards to the Elder Seedseer. Oh, and tell her the wolf has been sniffing around the stables. A private jest, and one in poor taste, but I would have you tell it all the same. Fare you well, Lysander. May the Navigator guide you on your journey. And...I am glad to see you again.”

The honest expression of familiarity was unexpected, and he almost fumbled his salute. “Thank you, Admiral, I will relay the message, and...it’s good to be remembered.”

Feeling slightly stunned, he was escorted back out, and he and the guards exchanged polite nods and pleasantries. He let out a breath he had been holding subconsciously, wondering why he had admitted what he had, but didn’t dwell on it; apparently it had been exactly the right thing to say, though what the Admiral and Ala Mhigo had to do with each other he had no idea. Tucking this away to ponder later, he made his way east, heading to the bridge over one of the numerous rivers and tributaries that were the aquatic lifeblood of La Noscea, finding a nice spot in the sun to wait. It also happened to be next to one of the small aetherytes that facilitated inter-city travel, and he grinned when Risu popped up next to it a couple of minutes later.

“Ha! That was fast!” she laughed, a satchel slung over her shoulder, “so! Can you tell me anything about it or is it all state secrets?” He followed her as they found a good place to sit and enjoy the scenery, which would also conveniently be near the water that would muffle their conversation from afar, and be also out in the open enough that anyone attempting to spy upon them would be easily noticed. Once they were happily situated and Lysander had a mug full of tea (a strange sort from Risu’s homeland that was green tea with toasted brown rice, and he’d quite missed since he had been gone), he filled her in on the meeting, and she gave him a similar look that Merlwyb had when he mentioned his heritage. “Okay, I know that I didn’t forget _that_ , I swear to the kami that you’re Ul’dahn.”

“And that’s what I thought!” He accepted a tea-biscuit and nibbled the corner. “So, basically, it started three or four days ago…”

He told her the story that he had to the Scions, trying not to laugh as her expression got more and more amazed until she stared at him with eyes and mouth wide open. “That is so crazy! And great!” Laughing, she refilled their tea from the insulated container and took another biscuit. “What a strange turn of things. Like, I remember you just fine, and now that I think about it, I didn’t recall what had happened to you before the Calamity when you were with the Circle but I’d not thought much about it. Then you visited on and off since then but again, those missing moments just didn’t occur to me because I was used to you disappearing on secret stuff and not being able to mention it. Now it’s come back and things make so much more sense. Bizarre!”

“Yeah, it’s…” He took another sip and sighed deeply. “I just wonder why mother and father never said anything. Raubahn seemed surprised and was really keen on getting me for the Flames, which I figured was because of father and Carteneau and all. But the way Merlwyb reacted when I mentioned it… I wonder if there’s something going on I should find out about.”

“Ask him yourself when you get back?” she suggested, then giggled wickedly. “Ooh, I just remembered, are you and Thancred still shagging?” She burst out laughing when Lysander choked on the last of his biscuit, needing a large swig of tea to clear it.

“You- Excuse you!” She laughed and just grinned at him, and he rolled his eyes and coughed again, dislodging the last crumb that had almost gone down the wrong way. “...Yes, yes we are. Sort of. Not as a relationship, just like we always had, convenience. Why would you care, anyroad, you aren’t into physical pleasure like I am, and you’re not usually the nosy sort.”

She tweaked his nose and poured the last of the tea for him. “Because I’m your older sister and I care about you.”

“ _Adoptive_ older sister,” he huffed with the hint of a smile, “and don’t bluff me, you’re digging for other info.”

Puffing out her cheeks, she pretended to be offended and ate half of a biscuit in one bite. “Fine, no games. I miss the both of you and worry for your health. ...You two are a _lot_ alike and I do think of you as my brothers, twins even. The way you two always run yourselves ragged trying to do everything yourselves, carrying everyone else’s burdens so they don’t have to, trying to protect everyone at the cost of your own health and safety…”

She sighed and looked much older suddenly. “You two were always good for each other because you two were the only people you could let your guard down around and be weak with. You always put on masks and armor and things around everyone else, trying so hard to be strong and take on the weight and dangers of the world yourselves. We always worried for you but knew that you’d be offended if we said or tried to do anything, so we just...watched. Then you both left and…”

Toying with the last of her biscuit, she nibbled it, not able to make eye contact. “Just...be careful. Both of you. I don’t know what you think you did to deserve the hell you two put yourselves through, but you have served your penance. Forgive yourselves already. Please?”

It was his turn to sigh, and he rubbed the back of his neck again. "I...make no promises. But I'll try." He handed back the empty mug and stood up, brushing crumbs off of himself. "I'd best get going, but it should be easier to get in touch again, the Scions are based out of Vesper Bay now, so-"

"You are _kidding_ me, that tiny-arse little port town from where you left Thanalan is where you're living now? Ha!" She got to her feet and hugged him tightly. "Go, shoo! I know how and where to find you now, and more importantly, that you're safe. Take care of yourself. And him. We still think of you two and how you're doing."

"Yeah, I will, and I'll tell him." Heading back into the city, he took the lift back up, where he was granted access again. In less than half an hour he was seated again, the air craft taking to the skies as it had from Ul'dah, and he took the chance again to have one last look at the city from above. The engines spun up to full power and carried them off swiftly, and Limsa faded into the distance as compasses and maps were consulted, taking the most direct route to Gridania.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.//


	8. Unity and Camaraderie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Awww yeah, that _foreshadowing_ , I am SO glad I'm doing this after ShB dropped :D
> 
> Also, yes, that _is_ "Eyes on Me" from FFVIII, and since Eden is in FFXIV I consider this music to be canon to Lys's world and therefore he knows it. So there :P//

Blues and bright greens slowly transitioned into darker greens and browns as they flew from La Noscea to the Shroud. Lysander wrinkled his nose when he felt the humidity in the air change slightly; while both Limsa and Gridania had a wetter climate than Ul'dah, the coastal city at least had a breeze to move the air and made it fresh. There was always something that felt slightly cloying and muggy to him about the dense forest city. That, and the whole "Elementals" thing. He was hardly spiritual, as while he joked about being the "Warden's Shield" or the like now and then, he'd never felt any particular connection to any of the Twelve, who seemed to mind their own business anyway. Running a whole city on the whims of some aetheric beings that seemed to have no bloody connection or relationship with those who actually _lived_ there rubbed him a bit the wrong way. But that wasn't any of his damn business and he minded his own as best he could. This current business, however, well, that should prove to be interesting. Once more, like at Limsa, they slowed and docked, and he left the landing area, passing through the common room at the inn and heading to the main aetheryte. Unlike Ul'dah and Limsa, who had the places he needed to go quite close, he recalled that Kan-e-Senna's "office" was almost completely on the opposite side of the city, and he was grateful that at least there was a shard near his destination. Once more, he approached the guards with a smile and a wave, offered his missive for inspection, was admitted with another guard, and found himself in the Lotus Stand with the Elder Seedseer and her own guard.

He tried not to laugh out loud at the fact that she was the only one so far who did _not_ have a desk and therefore a small hill of paperwork, which probably would offend the Elementals or something. He bowed politely and she returned a smaller one. "So you are the Ul'dahn envoy," she said, looking intrigued, "on behalf of our fair nation, I bid you welcome. I am Kan-E-Senna, Elder Seedseer of Gridania, and leader of the Order of the Twin Adder, our nation's Grand Company. I understand you bear a message from the Flame General." She paused and stepped closer, now looking perplexed. "But...before you begin, might I behold your face more closely?" Surprised, he gave permission, and she moved closer to take his chin in her hand carefully, and he swore softly when she winced and staggered backwards. Her guard, like Merlwyb's, advanced on him, but once again, he was halted with a wave of her hand. "Stay your lance, I am unharmed. Rather, I am restored. My memory is, to be exact."

The look she now gave him made him back up a step. "I see, you were with us at Carteneau. But you were forgotten. Your soul, your aether, I remember this from when I scoured the battlefield for any sign of Louisoix. We could find no trace of him, only aetheric whispers, and the shattered remains of Tupsimati. But, we also found a sword, and we knew that he carried no blade upon him, nor could we recognize the faint echo of a soul who had clearly been there with him."

"Heh, yeah, turns out that that was me and mine." He gestured and called the rapier to his hand, and the guard raised his weapon at him again. "And if you're the one that found and retrieved it then I owe you my thanks, as Tataru returned it to me at the Sands yesterday and... Well, turns out that I can do _this_ with it." He dismissed the weapon and shrugged. "Apparently I can do a few strange things now. Ah, but I'm not here for that, here, General Raubahn sent me, so..." He handed over the message and waited patiently while she read it.

"A remembrance service for the fallen of Carteneau... Blessed Twelve, five years have gone by already..."

Snapping his fingers, Lysander recalled something. "Oh, and sorry if this comes out weird, but the Admiral asked me to pass on a message. Ah, 'the wolf has been sniffing around the stables.' Not quite sure if i got that right..."

The Seedseer chuckled softly. "Is that so? Well, I shall be pleased to provide her with such counsel as I am able. But I assume that you itch to know what the meaning behind her request entails. Do you know of Gaius van Baelsar?"

"Gaius van... I think so- Wait- The Black Wolf..." Lysander blinked as the name unlocked a new wave of memories, and he was momentarily confused as he tried to make sense of it all, then snarled and clenched his fist, electricity crackling up his arm. "That armor-plated whoreson, I am going to punch him in the _balls!!_ " Both the Seedseer and her guard weren't expecting his outburst, and Lysander blushed as he chuckled weakly. "Ah, sincere apologies, I'm still collecting my memories, too. Turns out he's tried to kill me a few times and I've got a bit of a grudge about that. ...Oh...um..." He glanced away and gnawed at his lip, wondering if he should bring up the other thing on his mind, and Kan-e-Senna noticed this.

"You are concerned about something, Lysander. Might I be able to relieve your burden?" He hesitated a moment longer before relating his conversation with Merlwyb and his own concerns about his heritage, his rank within the Flames, and what it all meant. She pondered it silently and he fiddled with one of the chains on his shirt, not sure if he'd made an error or accidentally spilled state secrets, as it were. "How interesting. He is not yet making his move, but he is gathering the pieces to do so." She tilted her head to the side and regarded him with a serious look. "I would tell you more of the Garlean threat we currently face. For the greater part of its history, Garlemald was not even among the most influential nations in Ilsabard, the northern continent. However, its innovations in the field of magitek, some fifty years past, helped to raise it from the depths of obscurity. Emboldened by this technology, it set about subjugating its neighbors, swiftly absorbing each into its ever-expanding territory. And when all of Ilsabard lay within its grasp, it turned its ravenous gaze upon Eorzea."

Nodding, Lysander relaxed a little. "I remember most of that. They can't use aether like the rest of us, so thanks to the ceruleum deposits in the area they were able to refine it and use it to power magitek machinery. And it's been fucking devastating. Ah, sorry. But, yeah, I remember Carteneau and how much damage just a few units could do to an entire army."

"Correct. Yet Garlemald's transformation did not come about by virtue of magitek alone. Its success owed much to the consummate leadership of its first and reigning emperor, Solus zos Galvus, the man who built an empire in his own lifetime. Yet he has lived long, and after more than four score winters, it is said that he grows frail, and ever more prone to illness."

With a snarl, Lysander folded his arms across his chest. "So I've a name to put to the person who started it all. I swear to the Twelve, if I meet him I'm putting a giant fucking hole in his chest and carving his heart right out." He blushed again and shrank in on himself. "S... Sorry again, ma'am, I just... I've got a lot of reasons to kill Garleans, all I need is the opportunity."

When the guard tensed visibly at this, gripping his weapon, Kan-e-Senna once more reassured him before turning back to Lysander. "I would ask you to reconsider such views. This young man was conscripted by the Garleans to fight for them and participated in the assault against us at Carteneau. However, his armor was damaged in the fight and he was trapped beneath it, gravely injured." She saw the dark look that Lysander gave to the other Hyur and shook her head. "We could have put him out of his suffering at that moment, and many of my people desired it. But I saw a boy thrust into a situation and a war in which he had no business fighting and gave him a second chance. He has served the Adders with distinction and valor since then." Lysander said nothing, shifting uncomfortably as he processed this, but she didn't press the matter and instead pressed on. "Regardless, you may not get the chance to dethrone the emperor yourself. If rumors are to be believed, the matter of succession has destabilized the imperial court. This would explain the Empire's relative inactivity in recent years, which has granted us much-needed time to rebuild. Despite this we cannot allow ourselves to become complacent, for Garlemald still maintains a presence in Eorzea, in the form of the XIVth Imperial Legion, and commanding this great host is Legatus Gaius van Baelsar, a man whose ambitions are well known to us. So long as he breathes Eorzean air, none of us may sleep easy."

"Then I'll bloody well choke the life out of him," Lysander hissed, "he's nearly killed me and the Scions more than once and I've a mind to put a permanent end to him and his plans."

"Should you manage such a thing all of Eorzea would be in your debt. The Calamity wreaked such devastation upon the realm that it has been all we could do to nurse our wounds, never mind rebuild our defenses. Simply put, we have not the strength to repel the Empire. The Admiral desires my counsel regarding a brazen wolf; she means to tell me that the Empire may soon resume its advance. This is news that Raubahn will find invaluable as well, for it relates to your own concerns. No, he has no ulterior motive, save to free his homeland from the selfsame empire that conquered and subjugated his people twenty years past. That he has accepted you so readily is not that he wishes to use you for his own ends. Rather, he hopes to utilize you, in that you will help to inspire and rally people to take up arms to fight against the Empire, not just for Ala Mhigo, but all of Eorzea. Perhaps once the Imperial threat has been pushed back he will seek to liberate his- _your_ home, but for now, he is devoted to his duty of protecting the Sultana and Ul'dah, and therefore protecting Eorzea." She sighed and ran her thumb over the seal on the letter. "A storm gathers upon the horizon. If we are to weather it, we must needs stand united once more. A remembrance service may help to rekindle the spirit of unity which brought the peoples of Eorzea together when last the Empire threatened our liberty. The Flame General was wise to make his proposal, and I wholeheartedly approve of it. The necessary provisions shall be made for a service here in Gridania."

Lysander smiled and straightened up, glad that he hadn't offended. "Then I will leave you to that, I imagine that it's no small task. And...thanks, for listening. I didn't want to bother anyone with it, but at the same time it sounded a bit..."

"Strange? No, you are correct to be curious about such things, and well glad am I to see that you approached it with caution, but with an open mind rather than suspicion. The General pushes for war more than I would like, but he is an honorable man and will never throw away a life, not even to further his own goals. You have naught to fear from his interest in you, rather, he will prove to be an invaluable ally and resource. Further, I surmise that the reason that your parents never spoke to you of your lineage was not out of shame, but concern. Too many of your people, particularly of your age, have grown up bitter and resentful, and it is likely that they knew that such a thing would be a possibility. By concealing their past they prevented you from seeking hate and vengeance." Her smile was warm and supportive. "Your work here is done, my friend. I shall send my reply to him forthwith. I thank you for coming and that I remember you once more. May the Twelve see you safely home."

Lost in his own thoughts the entire walk back to the airship landing, Lysander rolled her words around in his head. She made a lot of sense, as he had known several Ala Mhigans, and they were always bitter and angry about not only what had happened, but that nobody would provide any assistance of any sort. Had his parents told him of their homeland then he likely would have chosen such a path as well, and...

He paused to sigh and rub his neck, shoulders sagging. They were likely going to tell him at some point, he had recalled hushed whispers and murmurs between the two of them of some sort of important discussion in the months before they had passed, and while he'd paid it no mind then, with the information he had now it made sense that they would have likely told him once he had come of age. Shaking his head, he resumed his trek. Well, that was in the past, and he was glad for the information now, but he was still mildly confused, and decided to talk with Minfilia about it. She was also Ala Mhigan, and the leader of the Scions. If he could get good advice from anyone it would be her. But for now... For the third time he was granted access to the airship landing, and yet again buckled himself into the seat, letting his mind wander. He found no more answers, but thankfully no more questions as well, and when the airship docked for the last time he decided that all he wanted at that point was something to eat and a stiff drink. His snack with Risu had taken the edge off, but it was evening now, and all of that concern and worry had worked up an appetite.

He departed the airship landing, taking the lift back down to the Exchange, but as he turned west onto the Steps of Nald to go to the aetheryte, he noticed a merchant and his guards menacing a refugee woman, and without even thinking about it he quickened his pace and approached.

"Shut your mouth, you thieving little swine! You stole from me, don't even think to deny it!" snapped the Hyur, advancing on the terrified woman, who cowered in fear, unable to run.

"P- Please, sir, I didn't steal nothin'! I b-bought this─paid for it with me own coin!"

The merchant clicked his tongue, glaring down at her. "What rot! You refugees are all the same! Couldn't afford maggoty mole meat, much less a choice cut of dodo! I'm going to say it one more time: give back what you stole, or I'll make you wish you'd never set foot in this town!" A sneer spread across his face as he leered down at her. "By rights, I should turn you over to the Brass Blades, you know, help keep the streets safe for law-abiding citizens. But I'm a reasonable man. If you agree to serve me in...whatever capacity I require, the authorities needn't hear of your crime."

Scared and seeing no way out, the refugee put her face in her hands, trembling visibly. "B- But I ain't done nothin' wrong! Twelve as me witness!"

Strolling up, Lysander tapped the merchant on the shoulder and gave him a smile that showed most of his teeth and didn't touch his eyes. "Hi. Also, fuck off. You _really_ don't want to do this."

The merchant stared at him in shock, then turned his rage on him. "Who the _fuck_ are you to tell _me_ to fuck off?!"

Clasping her hands together, the refugee woman looked up at Lysander with hope, pleading her case to him. "I swear on me mother's grave, I didn't steal nothin'! I bought this with the coin I'd saved... I... I only wanted to treat me children to a decent meal..."

"I've had enough of this mummer's farce. You lot, teach them both a lesson!" The merchant had clearly decided that none of this was worth his time, and Lysander sighed with frustration as he heard the two guards approach him from behind.

"Fuck's _sake_... Right, I'll do this your way, but I guarantee I'll enjoy it a lot more than you will." He called his weapon to his hand, and he smirked to himself when he heard the guards stop in their tracks, muttering between themselves. Pivoting on one foot, he turned to them and gestured grandly. "I thought you were up for a fight? If that's what you are after then I'll give it to you, but if you're not then I ask you to piss off and quit wasting my damn time."

Strangely, this actually goaded them into action, and he sighed again as they advanced; one with a sword, the other with an axe. He did some quick mental math as they charged, then wrapped his aether around himself and moved from _here_ to _there_ faster than he should have been able to. The swordsman took a wild swing at him, not expecting him to move so quickly, and Lysander extended his arm, flicked his wrist, and disarmed the man in one movement. His inertia carrying him forward still, he brought up his other hand to grab the other man by the throat. Electricity crackled around his hand as he focused before discharging it into his opponent. He had never quite learned to "throw" lightning the way Thaumaturges did, but he had learned to channel and use it as an effective stun on grappled opponents, and it worked quite well at that moment. The guard made a choked, gurgling shriek before he collapsed into a twitching heap, and Lysander stepped over him, pirouetting neatly again to face the second guard. As expected, the guard wound up for a powerful, two-handed swing, and Lysander grinned to himself as the man left himself wide open. He dismissed his sword and darted forward again, drawing his knives, watching the man's movements and stepping aside and around him as the axe came down, missing him completely. Planting one foot firmly, he kicked out with the other and drove it into the back of the guard's knee, sending him toppling to the ground. The guard grunted in pain as the wind was knocked out of him, but made a whimper of fear when Lysander put the edge of a dagger to the side of his neck.

"I am tired of my time being wasted," he hissed, "and my patience is all but spent. But I am not a cruel man, I will give you both one last chance." Standing up, he sheathed his weapons. "Leave. Now. Do not ever try this again or I _will_ kill you, and I may not be kind enough next time to grant you the mercy of a swift, painless death."

This was technically bravado and bluff, but it had the desired effect, as both men grabbed their weapons, got to their feet, and took off running. The merchant gaped at them before jumping up and down, shouting at them. "Hey! Where the hells do you think you're going!?"

Lysander ignored him as he knelt to offer a hand to the refugee woman, and she reached out to him. "Thank ye, kind adventurer! Thank ye thrice over!"

He gasped and felt that irritatingly-familiar pain of the memory of someone else in his own mind, and-

She clutches the coin purse to her chest, not trusting it out of her sight; thieves have been known to target refugees, and she has worked so hard to save what meager coin she has. But she has just enough, and her children have suffered with her so long as well, she has just enough to afford them a meal of actual meat, something that they have not tasted in so long. A vendor cries his wares, selling dodo meat, and she has just enough to afford the sorry-looking cuts. But meager as they are they will fill aching bellies and bring a smile to faces that have not had enough of them lately. The meat is wrapped in paper and she clutches both it and her now-empty purse as she makes her way back to the tents, eager to cook. Her heart is a little lighter knowing that it isn't much, but it is enough for the moment, just one night where the burden of just trying to survive another day was a little less heavy...

A voice called to him, and it took a moment for his senses to come back to the present, realizing that the poor refugee woman was worried for him. He shook his head to clear it, then smiled and reassured her, but when he heard her gasp as she looked behind him he growled in his throat and flicked his wrist again. A knife leapt into his hand and was pointed at the merchant, who had tried to run up behind him during his trance, and the other man skidded to an undignified stop so as to not impale himself. "Wh-What now!? You mean to threaten a defenseless citizen!?"

"Right, I've had enough of your shit," Lysander huffed, getting to his feet, "first off, _you_ threatened a defenseless citizen, and second, I saw her buy that meat with her own coin."

He saw the other man winding up to protest when another citizen stomped up, pointing angrily at the merchant. "Aye, as did I! Leave the poor woman alone, you damnable vulture!" Someone else piped up, then another, apparently emboldened now that two burly men with giant weapons were less likely to inflict painful bodily harm upon them.

Seeing that he was completely alone in every sense, the merchant pointed a shaky finger at Lysander and backed off. "I will overlook this...but just this once!"

Lysander snorted to himself as the man ran off, then smiled when the refugee woman clasped his hand in hers, tears of relief in her eyes. "Gods bless ye, adventurer! If ye hadn't come along when ye did, who knows what that monster might've done!? It don't bear thinkin' about..." She noticed the pin on his lapel, and while she likely didn't understand the ranks themselves she knew what it meant, and her eyes grew wider. "Ah, sir! Thank ye-"

Squeezing her hand, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a few more coins. "Here, it's okay. This isn't much, but it should help a little for now." He saw the surprise in her eyes and the protest forming on her lips, and he shook his head, wrapping her fingers around the precious gil. "All I ask is that your family eat well tonight. There's nothing that I can do about tomorrow, but I can at least ease your pain today. And sometimes that's all that one needs to keep going and find a better future."

She thanked him again and went off to purchase a little more to add to the meal she was to make, and he smiled sadly after her. There was only so much someone like him could do for people like her. In the end, it was the Syndicate and other groups at the top that held the money and power, and they were loath to part with any of it to ease the pain of those deemed "below" them. He sighed wearily, then straightened his clothes and continued to the aetheryte. He was _really_ hungry now, but he couldn't complain, he knew that at the end of the day he had a hot meal and a warm bed, and those were things that many could not say that they could have. Placing his hand on the aetheryte, he let his mind unfocus and drift, seeking the destination in Horizon, and once he connected, he let himself become nothing and be pulled along invisible currents. Moments later he became again, and he put his hands in his pockets as he went to negotiate passage back to Vesper Bay. He was going to have to find a better way to do this in the future! For now, it would suffice, and he was just glad that the airship had been so fast, he had honestly not expected to get back until late that night, and here it was just slightly after dark.

The cart came to a stop, and Lysander jolted awake, not having realized that he'd dozed off on the ride. He wasn't exactly sleepy or tired, exactly, but it was a pleasantly boring trip, and he had apparently nodded off for a lack of anything better to do. Disembarking, he hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and enjoyed the warm, fresh breeze of the evening as he made his way to the Waking Sands. The door was unlocked, which seemed to be the usual state of things, and he let himself in and then downstairs as though he'd been living there quite some time already. More than once he had described himself as a "stray cat," making himself comfortable where and when he liked, and he was amused to think of how readily it fit at the moment. He was about to head to the kitchen to figure out something to eat when he noticed Thancred emerging from the Solar, and he ducked into the shadows, grinning when he remained unnoticed. Waiting for Thancred to pass by he grabbed him around the waist from behind and playfully bit his shoulder, growling happily, and he burst out laughing at the surprised yelp from his companion.

"What in the seven hells- Lysander?!" Thancred composed himself quickly, huffing with a blush and trying not to smile as Lysander hugged him and nuzzled his neck. "You got back faster than I had expected. And you're much more cuddly than I'd expected, too." He gasped softly when the dancer nibbled his neck in _just_ the right spot. "More than cuddly, what's got you hot and bothered?"

Snickering, Lysander let him go, but smiled when Thancred turned to return the hug and offer a soft kiss. "Nothing, just being a nuisance, that's all. But a few more kisses like that and I could be..."

"Later, if you can wait that long, I'd like something to eat first."

Lysander returned the kiss with a bit more intensity and let him go. "That sounds great, actually, I'm wicked peckish, and I sorta want someone to just chat with the day about, it was interesting."

"You're in luck, Urianger and the twins are still here, and we were about to sit down for a meal in a few. If you don't mind a a larger audience..."

"Ah, that's great! I don't mind at all, and I've got a few weird things I want to ask about." They entered the kitchen together and found Y'shtola, Yda, and Papalymo already seated and eating, and Lysander waved, glad to see his friends again. "Heh, looks like I'm a bit late to join you all. Still, at least I was able to catch you before I went to bed, this trip wore me out."

Y'shtola smiled at him and put down her fork. "And well that you did, we are departing early in the morning back to Limsa and Gridania to return to our duties there. It is highly fortunate that we returned to resupply and drop off our findings when we did, else we'd not have caught you until you visited those cities yourself."

"Ha! Well, I'd have probably run into you today, that airship they're developing is proper fast, and I just got back from both of those places."

"Really!" Y'shtola laughed at this and shrugged. "Well, however it goes, it was good to see you again, and I'm glad that we were able to restore our memories so soon. I know not when we all will be back here together again, but in the meantime, while my own supper is nearly finished I do have the room and time for a bit of tea if you would regale us with your travels today."

Urianger had just arrived, followed by Alphinaud and Alisaie, and Lysander laughed with delight. "Well, I'll have a much bigger audience than I had expected! Sure, if you don't mind sitting a bit longer and listening to me try to talk and eat at the same time, this will probably affect you three as well." He grabbed a plate of the spicy meat chunks and lentils in sauce and a couple of pieces of flatbread to tear up and dip in it, already salivating. Whomever cooked this knew Ul'dahn cuisine, and it smelled simply delicious! A pot of tea was already in the middle of the table, so he grabbed a mug and poured for any who were out before filling his own. He took a few fast mouthfuls to deal with the initial hunger, then slowed down to eat more carefully while he began at his arrival at the Hall of Flames, then ended with his aetheryte trip back to Horizon. As his companions considered his words he cleared his plate and poured a second cup of tea. He was curious to see Yda's look of surprise, though it was mostly hidden by that odd, bulky headgear she always seemed to wear. "Something up, luv?"

"So you only just yesterday found out that you're Ala Mhigan? And you really are?"

"Yeah, it's weird, but it makes sense, and if Raubahn fought alongside father then I trust him. He's not the sort to bullshit a stranger, and he was honestly shocked that I didn't know anything. Why?"

"Well, it's just..." She fidgeted in her chair. "It's just odd, we knew you for a few years and then you were taken from us and just...gone for a while, and now you're back with weird new powers and all of these secrets and... It's not that I don't distrust you!" She waved her hands at him as if to physically dispel his doubts. "It's just that... I think the Seedseer is right, your parents didn't want to tell you anything because they didn't want you growing up like many of us and ending up bitter and angry."

"Wait, 'us?' So you're..."

Smiling sadly, she nodded. "I can't say much about it, really, I was too young to remember much, but... I hope something can be done. All of that suffering and oppression... It's just awful!"

Lysander stared into his mug of tea, thinking of the woman that he had aided earlier that day. "I'm not sure what can be done, but aye, hopefully someday we can make life better for the people there and Ul'dah and..." He sighed, suddenly feeling a bit tired.

Alphinaud noticed this and tried to help, smiling and clearing his throat. "Well, as grandfather was wont to say, 'dawn may banish even the darkest night,' so-" He paused when Lysander laughed, nearly spilling his tea.

"I-! Sorry! I'm not laughing at you, just the coincidence." When Alphinaud gave him a confused look, Lysander grinned and winked. "Lysander _Morgensonne_. I guess I'll be lighting up the world wherever I go, yeah?" This was met with polite chuckles, and he stretched his arms over his head. "I'm feeling pretty good for a bit longer. I think I'll grab my guitar and a glass of wine, give everyone a few songs before we all need to get some sleep for tomorrow."

This was met with approval from everyone, and once the table had been cleared and everything washed up, Lysander ducked into his room to retrieve his guitar. While everyone else took up residence in the plush chairs by the fire, Lysander found a stool to sit on, finding it more conducive to playing on than a chair that would wreck his posture. He hummed to himself as he tuned the instrument, knowing by ear what it should sound like, and smiled when all six strings strummed in a chord. Plucking the strings in a gentle melody, he let himself flow with the music.

"Whenever sang my songs, on the stage, on my own... Whenever said my words, wishing they would be heard. I saw you smiling at me, was it real or just my fantasy? You'd always be there in the corner of this tiny little bar..." Most of his audience simply listened, but he felt a small twinge of happiness to see Thancred mouthing the words along without realizing it. When he finished his song he bowed for the polite applause, drank a glass of wine, then sat back down and launched into another tune. For an hour he played and sang, enjoying the chance to share this with his friends again, needing this closeness and camaraderie. The room had slowly been getting more crowded as he played, as people who were still awake heard and came to join, and he blinked away tears when he finally had to put down the instrument, glad that he could make so many people smile. This was the signal for everyone not up for the night to retire to their rooms, and Lysander mouthed something to Thancred that got a nod, which thankfully nobody else noticed. Hugs were distributed as they were requested, and he finally entered his room, leaving the door open enough for Thancred to follow him, the rogue sticking to the shadows until safely inside.

Setting down the guitar, Lysander waited until the door was closed to put an arm around his companion's waist and press him against the door, kissing him deeply. "Gods, I want you right now." He squeezed Thancred's bottom and nipped his lip. "And I think I want _you_ , too, I've not taken you yet." He saw the look of surprise Thancred gave him and paused. "Ah, if you aren't-"

"No, it's not that, it's just that you've never asked before, so... I don't mind trying, it's just that..."

"First time receiving? Mm, I promise to go slow, and if you don't like it tell me to stop, don't put up with it for my sake, okay?"

Thancred nodded, licking Lysander's lips before kissing him again, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons on the dancer's waistcoat while his own garments were being undone. There were no words, only soft gasps and moans as they stripped each other, clothes being discarded where they fell, though Thancred did stop to cling to Lysander for support for a moment when the copper-haired man sucked a dark mark on his neck, growling possessively as he did so. "That had...better be hidden under my shirt," he gasped, then moaned again when his ear was the next to receive that wonderful, rough treatment.

"Mm? You don't want to show off all of the lovely marks that I leave on you? Showing off how much you please and satisfy me? Tsk, fine, I'll just have to leave more elsewhere then..." He nipped and bit gently wherever he could find exposed skin until Thancred's smallclothes had come off, at which point he pushed him onto the bed, clawing down his chest and purring in his ear. "I guess I get to find out just how thick these walls are..." Before Thancred could offer a rebuttal or protest, he got up to retrieve the oil, then slid back onto the bed. He put a hand on his partner's chest, pushing him down again, as Thancred had sat up on his elbows, and nuzzled his chin. "Trust me, love, I'll make this _very_ good. Just relax and tell me how you want it. And again, if you _don't_ want it, tell me." Thancred nodded again, his mouth suddenly dry, and leaned back against the pillow as Lysander oiled one finger and carefully rubbed it against the rogue's entrance, watching his reactions.

The other man appeared slightly nervous, despite his outward attempt to not be, but he relaxed quickly enough once he had got accustomed to the new sensation. Carefully, Lysander inserted that finger, and grinned when Thancred's hips snapped up, his sweet spot already found and being stimulated. "Ah! That- Oh gods, that's...what it's like..." He breathed heavily and quickly, shivering as he was stimulated to a new sort of arousal, and made a noise of curiosity when Lysander withdrew his finger to apply more oil, this time using two. Thancred moaned again, one fist pressed against his lips and the other knotting into the sheets. "That...that's very good. No wonder you...like that so much." He was already fully erect, starting to drip precum on himself, and Lysander decided that perhaps he could work a bit more quickly at this rate. Fingers withdrew again for more oil, and once more, another was added, drawing a very satisfying moan of pleasure. "I...don't need much more...preparation. I..."

Grinning wickedly, Lysander pressed all three fingers against his partner's prostate and sucked his ear, enjoying the way that Thancred bucked against his hand and clawed at his back. "Oh? You're ready for me? Well then..." He leaned closer, his breath warm and soft on his partner's ear. "Tell me what you want."

"I... I want you..."

"No..." He nipped Thancred's ear and splayed out his fingers, stretching him a bit wider. "I want to hear it, what you want from me. What do you want me to do to you?" Thancred squirmed under him, blushing from his cheeks to his chest, unable to say it. "Go on, I'll have to keep doing this until I know just what it is that you want..."

"You son of a..." Panting, Thancred reached for himself but found his hand slapped away. "I... Gods, you are are awful... I... Just..."

"Yes?"

"Hurry up and fuck me already," the other man gasped, the blush deepening at the admission, and Lysander kissed him, smiling against his lips.

"Very good. Now, let's get you ready. Onto your side, it'll be easier for you to relax, and you'd be a bit wider for me to get in. You're not the experienced sort that I am, so I'll make this as easy on you as I can." He sat back on his heels to apply oil to himself as Thancred shifted onto one side, then lifted one leg to hook it over his shoulder, kissing the inside of his partner's thigh. "You are simply perfect, love, what a magnificent body." He held himself in place, pressing against the twitching pucker, glancing at Thancred's face to see how he was doing, then slowly pushed inside at the nod to keep going. Almost achingly slowly he intruded, sliding in and groaning with delight at the warm, tight heat. "Fuck, I've not done this in ages... I'll make it up to you later..."

Thancred nodded yet again, his fingers again tangled in the sheet, but not from discomfort, just from the rush of pleasure and the new sensations he'd not had before. "This is...strange but...I do not mind it. I think that I would...only enjoy this with you and...perhaps one other..." He whimpered and bit his own lip as Lysander pressed against him, finally fully inside. "Gods, this is... Please, move, I... I need to feel it."

Withdrawing his hips a little, Lysander pushed back in firmly, chuckling at the sound that his partner made. "Very well. You're enjoying this, so I'll give you all that I can." He set a slow, even pace, pulling out almost all the way before pressing in completely again, and he found it hard to hold back, needing so badly to let himself go and just ride him until they both finished. But he didn't want it to end too soon, and it had been a while since he had been able to be the one giving, regardless of who his partner was. Even so, he began to quicken his pace, and Thancred stroked himself in time, the both of them getting needier and more frantic in their motions. "I... I can't hold back much longer," Lysander admitted, "if you are ready-"

"Hurry, please, I'm so close-" panted Thancred, clenching for a moment around the dancer, "go as fast and as hard as you need, I can take it. I _want_ it."

Needing no further encouragement, Lysander gave in to his needs, now thrusting hard and fast, swatting Thancred's bottom roughly and gasping at how he tightened again. He could only last another minute at this rate, but he didn't want to finish first without satisfying Thancred first. The rogue was also at his limit, and the deep, fast penetration that hit his sweet spot with every thrust finally sent him over the edge as he stroked himself to completion, and Lysander moaned at the sudden heat and tightness around himself. He only lasted a few more seconds before he emptied himself with sharp, hard thrusts, rutting into his partner and growling as he bit and nipped at the soft flesh on the inside of Thancred's thigh. Only when he was completely spent did he carefully withdraw and ease him back to the bed.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he whispered, ghosting a kiss across his lips, "let me get you cleaned up real fast." Thancred mumbled an incoherent reply as Lysander found a small towel to wipe up the mess on his partner's hand, and then between his legs, tossing the towel in the laundry hamper when they were both suitably clean. "I don't know if you'll ever want that again, but thank you for letting me do that," he sighed, leaning down to nuzzle against him, and smiled when Thancred wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

"I may not want it the same way you do, or as often, but... I can see myself enjoying that more often. That was better than I had expected. ...Thank _you_."

Lysander got up again to swipe the panel that controlled the light and returned to the bed. "You don't mind staying with me again tonight, then? It feels rude to use you like that then kick you out to your room after."

Chuckling, Thancred made room for Lysander to join him, as he had been sprawled across most of the bed. "I don't mind at all. Besides, I'm hardly hurt or worn out, but I've no desire to get up for anything right now."

"Good. If you have problems in the morning then tell me, I don't like to cause harm to my partners." Something clicked and he grinned wickedly, nipping Thancred's neck. "Hmm, you said 'with one other,' have you someone in mind?" His grin widened when he felt Thancred twitch with embarrassment at the question. "Well, you don't have to answer now, but if there is another with whom you would do such things, well, it could be fun to play together some time..."

"...Perhaps..."

The word sounded thoughtful rather than dismissive, and Lysander left it at that; they were both promiscuous and casual in their physical encounters with most people, and weren't bothered by the thought of multiple partners at once. However, there was something implied that Thancred did have interest, _genuine_ interest in someone else, and Lysander respected both him and his decision to not say anything about it. "Well, should you find a name I'd love to hear it. For now, I'll leave it be." He stretched out on his back, giving Thancred room to do the same on the other side, but blinked when the other man draped himself across him, his head on the dancer's shoulder and legs tangled together. He kissed the top of the platinum hair and hugged him, tracing gentle fingers up and down his back. "...For now...this is nice." Thancred replied something in reply, but the both of them were already drifting off, and Lysander didn't catch it. Feeling warm and full and satisfied in body and soul, he held his companion and let himself go to sleep, dreaming of nothing in particular, simply the sleep of one in need of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.//


	9. Interesting Inquiries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //I promise that this'll get more interesting soon! There's just SO much groundwork to set down in advance. And I do feel a bit trashy having so many naughty parts so often, but I really am trying to actually make it part of the story and not just "and now they smashed!", because if I really want that I can start up a collection of smutty one-shots that likely won't be canon and will just be for fun.
> 
> ...
> 
> Anyway...
> 
> I also put together a rubbish Imgur album for reference pics for the ginger nuisance, since I keep forgetting what he's wearing sometimes and I just FFFFFFFFFFF. Pop on over to [Lysander Morgensonne Warrior of Light Reference Album](https://imgur.com/a/xaQgSNc) if ya wanna see what he's supposed to look like. I'll be updating it as he picks up more gear, and will be posting this with each chapter, because why the hell not. He's pretty, PLEASE PERCEIVE HIM. <3//

It was the second morning in which Lysander had woken in this room, and he already felt comfortable there. This was likely due in no small part to the fact that he was not alone, and he had also awoken from the same. Thancred had shifted, likely to get up, and this had been enough to rouse him, in more that one sense. With a playful growl, he pulled Thancred back in for a hug and to nibble on his ear. The rogue gasped and chuckled, leaning back into the hug. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m not bothered,” Lysander replied, nuzzling his neck, “I was waking up anyway, and it’s quite nice having you like this. I know it can’t be permanent, but I guess that’s why I savor moments like these so much.”

Thancred huffed an amused chuckle and relaxed into soft, warm kisses, then prodded his companion’s side with a smile. “Oh really, already?” He had noticed a particular firmness growing between them, which he was responding to without thinking about it, and Lysander grinned lopsidedly and shrugged.

“Look, you’re hot and I’m always a bit horny, sorry, I’ll take care of it myself.”  
  
“I didn’t say you had to do _that_ …” He reached between them and grasped them in one hand, stroking once. “I’m just amused, that’s all. Besides, it is a nice way to wake up, and it’ll be a busy day, so let’s start it all off in a good mood, mm?”

With a grin, Lysander threaded the fingers of one hand into his hair, kissing him again, and brought his other hand to grasp them both as well, matching his partner’s rhythm. Soft moans and gasps interrupted the silence as they slowly got closer, until Lysander nipped Thancred’s lip and growled against his ear. “I want to taste you. Lay back and I’ll finish you.”

“Or you could stay there and I could move, because I want to do the same for you,” Thancred gasped, biting a spot on Lysander’s shoulder that left a fading mark, then sat up to carefully shift his position the other way around. He shivered when Lysander grasped and licked him from base to tip, swatting his bottom, and allowed his hips to be guided so that the dancer could work while he pleasured him in the same way.

“Don’t hold back,” Lysander whispered, running his hands over his partner’s thighs, “and don’t worry about me, enjoy this.”

“I was going to say that.”

Lysander shuddered softly as Thancred took him into his mouth, stroking with his fingers what his lips and tongue couldn’t touch, and he allowed himself a moan of pleasure before also taking him as deep as he could. His hands wandered over the rogue’s body, caressing and stroking, and sooner than he had expected he found himself near to finishing. The way that the other man tensed hinted that he was the same, only holding back for the sake of his companion, and Lysander caught his breath so that he could focus on stimulating him to- _oh gods_. Thancred was much more insistent and forceful in his work now, and Lysander’s moan was muffled around his partner’s length, earning a huffed hum that made him writhe for a moment. Fine then, he could play the same games, and he used all of the tricks that he knew would bring him to climax and leave him limp and exhausted afterward. They held back again for each other’s sake, clearly needing to finish, but wanting the other to do so first, until Thancred cheated a little by wetting a finger and sliding it inside, stroking that spot that always did such amazing things for Lysander. This was the moment that broke his concentration and let him give in, his hips rising up in short, erratic thrusts as he spilled, feeling Thancred finally do the same, hardly able to stroke him through it as his partner did for him. He didn’t pull away until he was certain that the other man was done as well, and with shaky movements Thancred turned again and collapsed atop him.

“...Good morning,” Lysander giggled, nuzzling him again, and left gentle scratches down Thancred’s back when he shifted to be able to kiss him once more, “and damn, you taste good. Don’t mind yourself on my lips like this, do you?” he teased, and gasped when Thancred tweaked something sensitive with a smirk.

“If I did I’d not have kissed you those other times right after you were done with me.”

“Fair. Well, I guess it’s time to figure out trousers and then breakfast. Though, in _just_ a minute, gods, I just…” He hugged Thancred firmly and pressed the bridge of his nose into the other man’s neck, toying with his ever-present braided fabric choker, enjoying his warmth and scent, and smiling when the rogue caressed his cheek and asked him what was on his mind. “I think I like this the best. Curled up and warm with you, feeling so good and relaxed and...I just like being touched. Sorry to be needy, but I…” Sighing deeply, he ran his fingers up and down his companion’s back, almost purring at the way that Thancred carded his fingers through his hair. “It’s what I want more than anything, I guess, to have someone there to wake up to every morning. Even if we don’t do anything, well, lewd. I just want… Ugh, you’re going to laugh.” He blushed and pressed his face into Thancred’s chest to hide it, and the rogue coaxed him to continue, promising that he wouldn’t.

“...I want to find someone who I can always make smile, and I can keep happy and satisfied. Not some empty-headed sort who giggles at anything, or simpers at my every word. An equal, who shares similar interests but also has their own, and we always uplift each other and find new things to surprise and amaze with. Someone I want to protect but is strong enough to stand on their own without me, and together we’re unstoppable. A person who lives and loves as if every day could be their last, everything is a grand adventure, every kiss feels like it’s the first time, and every hug is as if we’ve been apart for months. Someone I can treat like a prince or princess, no matter where they came from, because they deserve that level of devotion, and because they carry themselves with noble dignity and honor.” Turning almost as red as his hair, he hugged Thancred tighter. “...It’s silly, I know it is. You can go ahead and laugh.”

The expected mirth did not happen, and Lysander relaxed into Thancred hugging him again, not having realized that he had tensed up in his telling. “It isn’t the least bit silly, and I won’t laugh. Rather...I somewhat envy you, knowing what you want, even if it is quite fanciful and difficult to obtain.” He shifted once more, pulling away to caress his partner’s face and kiss his forehead. “And I think you’ll find that person. You deserve it, even if you think you don’t. Further, I hope you do. You’re a good man.”

Lysander also wasn’t expecting this level of tenderness and sniffed softly as he blinked back tears. “...Thanks, luv. I…”

“You wanted to find trousers and breakfast,” Thancred chuckled, kissing him again and getting up, “let’s go take care of that and then see what Minfilia has for us. Time for you to begin earning your keep as a Scion!”

This finally got a laugh from the dancer and he scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes and sat up. "It sounds like our work has changed since the Calamity and all." He paused to watch Thancred get dressed and enjoyed the way he moved, then remembered something. "Oh, um, how do you feel, after last night…?"

Thancred tugged his trousers into place and smirked over his shoulder. "You treat me as a maiden after her first time. I'm hardly fragile, Lys, even if that particular experience was new."

Getting up as well, Lysander retrieved the clothes that had been distributed around the room to hang them up and remove something else. "Fair enough, I just care about you and want to encourage doing that sort of thing again." The amused snort from Thancred was the reaction he had wanted, and he began to get dressed, removing a doublet and trousers in the Riviera style, the waistcoat of linen and leather dyed a deep wine, and the trousers in simple black. He pulled the long-sleeved, slightly bloused shirt that laced up at the neck over his head, then secured the laces on the waistcoat, but left the ones on his shirt undone. The trousers were a looser fit than his previous traveling garments, but still fit comfortably under the black leather thighboots that he laced up next, as the shorter boots he preferred with the other trousers didn't quite match this style. As he stood and removed a flat cap in the same brown and wine red as his waistcoat, Thancred huffed a soft laugh at him, also dressed but enjoying watching him do so as well.

"You always were fond of looking fancy, Lys, I'd be envious if I cared enough about my own appearance."

Lysander playfully swatted him with his hat as he grabbed the fingerless gloves he preferred to wear when traveling. "Well, you should, you're handsome and should really flaunt it more." He snickered when Thancred reddened a little and made a show of adjusting his own clothes, and put an arm around his waist to hold him for one last kiss. "I mean it, and you know it, or else you'd not be getting laid nearly as often as you do. And...I want you to find someone, too. I know you've devoted yourself to the Scions and our work and all, but I want you to be happy. You work too hard, luv, you deserve to have someone special in your life and not be alone, and before you go on about 'not being able to protect them' or some bullshit, I want to say one thing: _bullshit_. You are brilliant and skilled and I've lost count of how many times you've risked your neck for mine. Whomever it is that catches your eye is going to be a very lucky person."

Silent for a moment as he considered this, Thancred hugged him around the shoulders and held him for a few seconds longer. "...Perhaps..." Like the night before, it was thoughtful, not dismissive, and Lysander stifled a sigh of relief that his friend would possibly think of his own desires for once. "Seeing you again gives me hope, something that I had lost at Carteneau. Perhaps...I can open up again, but...we will see." Lysander chose to leave it at that and continued to hold him, feeling the unspoken request to provide that physical anchor for him just a little bit longer. Abruptly, Thancred pulled away enough to grab him by the collar and hold him in place for a deep, needy kiss, surprising the taller man, who let him take control of the moment, his fingers digging into the back of his companion's shirt. "...Don't disappear on us like that again. I don't think that- that we could take it again." He had caught himself, but Lysander had also caught how he had nearly said "I" and smiled warmly.

"I make no promises, but I'll try. You all mean a lot to me, too, so that goes for you as well, okay?"

Chuckling, Thancred tugged at the braided lock of hair behind Lysander's ear. "I make no promises. But what I _am_ going to make is my way to the bathroom so I can get washed up for the day."

"Agreed, I need a few minutes with a hairbrush and some other things." Giving him a teasing nibble on the shell of his ear, Lysander laughed when Thancred prodded his sides again, knowing where he was ticklish. Lysander went to grab a few things to wash up with (and the insignia pin that he had almost forgotten, removing it from his previous shirt and securing it to his current one!), hearing the door softly open as Thancred stepped into the shadows and left, then went to do deal with his morning needs. An hour later he was refreshed and had a mug of tea, sipping it happily as he strolled toward the Solar and knocked on the door. He was granted entrance, and he waved brightly to Minfilia, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk.

"You appear to have slept well, Lysander," she greeted, looking cheerful herself, and he idly wondered when she had got up, because she already seemed partway through some paperwork that had probably taken some time to go through. "Once your counterpart has arrived I shall brief you on your mission. However, before that, is there aught you wish to know about us? I remember your work with the Circle, but since the Calamity our focus has changed somewhat."

Lysander nodded and swirled the tea in his mug. "Aye, a few things. Thancred has filled me in with quite a bit, but there's a couple of things outside of his knowledge, which surprises me, honestly, he's brilliant. Mostly it's this Echo. So I've been able to see memories from people now and then, and it seems to be only if I've had physical contact, y'know, skin to skin, and there's a high emotional state behind it. At least, that's what I've been experiencing so far."

She nodded and folded her hands atop the desk. "This talent takes various forms, but one holds particular interest for us. The Echo allows you to pass through the walls of a person's soul, and hear the resonations of their past. You will be there in their memories, and see things as they saw them. You may even interact with that which you see, though you cannot change the outcome of events. For another blessing, the Echo will enable you to know a person's mind even if you cannot comprehend their words."

Snapping his fingers, Lysander made a "that's it!" gesture. "Ah, that's another thing, I remember that bloke in the funny robes, he was speaking in some other language a couple of times when he was summoning something, and while I didn't know the words I still understood it. Bloody strange at the time, but that makes sense now."

Once more she nodded, looking patiently frustrated. "It is only a shame that we cannot use it whensoever we choose."

Lysander paused mid-sip to consider this. "...Is it because we _can't_ , or because we've just not figured it out yet? And... Oh, that's... And could it be possible to share memories of our own?" He scratched his nose and mentally filed this away to investigate later. "The other thing is, well, what do we _do_? Thancred and I caught up on a LOT of stuff, five years is a long time, but I'm not entirely sure how our objectives have changed since the Calamity."

"Our single objective is the preservation of the future of Eorzea," she replied, leaning back in her chair, "and among our gravest concerns are the godlike beings known as the primals. Their existence is a bane upon Eorzea- nay, the world at large, and we have striven to find a lasting solution to the threat they pose."

Blowing out a deep sigh, Lysander traced his finger around the rim of his mug. "Interesting, so we have gone from just saving Eorzea to killing gods. Well, I _did_ say I'd give it a try at Carteneau, funny how it took me five years to get there. Hmm, either there's not been much call for the Scions or you all have been really bloody good at your work, 'cause while I hear rumblings and rumors everywhere, I've not heard anything about actual primal activity anywhere."

"A little of both, to be honest. We have been successful so far in defusing tensions or coercing parties to avoid such things, or have outright removed the ability for such things to happen. But, so long as they exist, the realm cannot take so much as a single step towards true peace. It is our sworn duty to ensure that the nations of Eorzea are able to work together and strengthen their alliances in order to fight the Garlean threat that looms over us all."

A growl rose up in his throat at the mention of Garleans, but before either of them could further the conversation Thancred entered, and Lysander perked up. "Hey, luv, ready for an exciting day of adventure?"

"Almost as much as you are," he grinned as he took a seat as well, then nodded to Minfilia. "Has anything changed since the request from the Students of Baldesion yesterday?" At her negative reply Thancred folded his arms across his chest and hooked an ankle over one knee, addressing his teammate. "Got a request from the Flames, looks like it was sent yesterday after you'd left the city. Some days ago, a crystal caravan registered to Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern was waylaid and divested of its cargo. Further, within a bell of the robbery, several people were reported missing from the shantytown outside the city."

Another growl escaped Lysander's lips and he drained the last of his tea. "Fuck. A summoning." His eyes darted to Minfilia at the off-handed profanity, but she seemed unbothered by it.

"At a glance, one would assume the involvement of bandits and kidnappers to be coincidence. Such crimes are hardly uncommon, and the Immortal Flames deal with their like almost every day. However, this time we have reason to believe that a primal is involved."

"Aye, the evidence left behind implicates the Amalj'aa, who are known worshipers of Ifrit," Thancred added, "if we then consider the objects that were taken, there is no room left for doubt- the crimes were committed in the name of a primal."

Grimacing, Lysander rubbed the back of his neck. "As I recall, the Amalj'aa are mostly active in Southern and Eastern Thanalan, and that's a _lot_ of territory to cover. Do we have any decent leads?"

"Thankfully, yes. Since the attack on their caravan our friends at Amajina & Sons Mineral Concern have doubled security over all their shipments, so we needn't worry about them for the moment. In light of this, it is my judgment that the abductions should be our priority. According to our preliminary findings, the majority of the missing were last seen in the vicinity of Camp Drybone."

"East Thanalan it is. Good thing I've spent the last ten years puttering all over Eorzea, I've linked with that aetheryte before, so it'll make our trip _much_ faster." He stood up and snapped his fingers again. "Oh, nearly forgot, do we have any duress or pass codes?"

"The both of you will create your own for your own use, but all Scions will respond to 'wild rose,'" Minfilia replied, "and be careful. You have been given back to us and I would not see you lost again so soon."

Lysander laughed at the similar sentiment between her and Thancred, and the two men took their leave. Once the tea mug had been washed and put away they went back to their rooms to grab and pack backpacks with any items they would need for travel to and around the savanna settlement, returned to the kitchen to obtain rations and water, and departed the Waking Sands. Yet again a cart back to Horizon was obtained, and they stretched out comfortably for the (relatively) short trip. Thancred noticed Lysander looking at him with a curious but amused look and asked him why. "Well, the tattoos," he replied, tapping his own neck, "I remember you mentioning that you earned them back in Sharlayan, and all of the Scions have 'em. Same for Louisoix. ...I don't think I saw them on the twins, though."

Shaking his head, Thancred reclined and crossed one ankle over the other, his legs outstretched. "Very few are are selected and certified for it. These marks are only awarded to those who have demonstrated an exceptional knowledge of their respective subjects, and have made a great contribution to their field of study." He gave his companion a broad grin when he saw the smile on the other man's lips. "I know, I know! I get that a lot, apparently the fact that I might actually be a scholar of sorts and bloody well know what I'm doing surprises some people."

"I wasn't laughing at you," Lysander remarked, pretending to be offended, "I was thinking of how much more attractive that makes you. Intelligence is sexy, y'know. And I'm not the least bit surprised you earned something like that, you're dedicated and clever, and while you may not have the aetheric abilities that some of the others do you have skills that they don't. I just... It was making me wonder if I should look into getting a bit of decorative ink myself, y'know? Don't know what I'd get yet. Any ideas?"

Thancred's grin got snarky as he thought of this. "Well, perhaps 'Insert Here' on your lower back with an arrow pointing down." This got a hearty laugh and a playful kick from the dancer, and Thancred didn't bother to dodge it. "No? How about your name on your back at your shoulders and hips, just in case your partner forgets? Ohshit-" Lysander had got up to pin him down and tickle his sides, as while the man wasn't quite as ticklish as he was, it was still effective. "Bugger! Ah! Stop!"

"Oh? What's the duress code? Unless you're not _really_ in trouble..."

"Wild rose!" gasped Thancred, and he went limp in Lysander's arms for a moment as he caught his breath and wiped his eyes. "You utter _arse_."

"And you love me and mine," the dancer snickered, giving him a quick kiss, "but that reminds me, we do need to set our personal code while we're out."

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Thancred nodded. "Aye, any ideas?"

"...Well, we can still use my old one of 'copper sunflower,' if you don't mind, seems to go well with 'wild rose,' I think."

"Heh, I'd almost forgotten about that one." He twined a lock of the coppery hair around his finger. "It suits you, really. Sunflowers are rather nice, we'll have to see if we can grow them at the Sands, I think there's a hardy sort that takes well to the climate there."

Lysander wasn't expecting this and blinked, reddening happily for a moment, then leaned in for a warmer kiss. "...Thanks. I didn't think you'd remember."

"To be fair, I had forgotten for a while, but it wasn't because I had wanted to, it's because you were taken from me- us." He grimaced at the unintentional slip, but shivered when the dancer kissed him again, letting it linger as the taller man traced the mark on his neck gently. "...Really, I know you're an exhibitionist, but in the back of a moving cart?" he teased.

"I am, but right now I'm just feeling...good. Cuddly. Sorry to be too much, but..." He sat up and pulled the rogue with him, hugging him and tracing his fingers up and down his companion's back. "That was rather sweet and you know I'm a bit stupid for romantic things like that. Besides, we're going to be on a mission once we get to Drybone and I want to be professional, so I need to get all of this out of my system now."

"Not bloody likely," Thancred smirked, "you're never _not_ in the mood for hugs. Or more."

"Oy! I'm trying, give me credit for that at least!"

They teased each other with verbal and physical prods until the cart arrived at Horizon, where they grabbed their backpacks and went to the aetheryte. It only took a couple of seconds for them to synchronize with it, their hands upon its surface, reaching out for the one in Camp Drybone. There were no words or signposts, just...a resonance. A ripple in the aether that they had learned to recognize, like hearing one's name or remembering the scent of something nostalgic; it was a memory made of energy, written into their souls and readable whenever they were near one of these massive, mysterious crystals. True, they could draw upon their own aether to teleport directly to one of these if they were out in the wild, but that was taxing up on one's body and mind, and could be dangerous for the user if they weren't careful. Travel like this, however, required hardly anything from the "caster," and thus they and their belongings shifted from matter to energy, traversed the distance to their destination, and became real once more. They took a moment to acclimate to the slightly drier and hotter weather at Drybone, then ducked into the shade; while they were both at home in this climate it didn't make sense to stand about in the heat if they didn't have to.

Thancred sighed and knuckled his back, mentally preparing himself for the work ahead. "Well, now that we're here, let's get started. A fellow by the name of Isembard serves as the camp's de facto leader. He's an older bloke, Midlander like us, usually hangs out by the markets to keep an ear to the ground for gossip and intel. Pay him a visit, and see that he gives us his full cooperation. I'll go and get us lodging established. Much as I would like this to be a swift affair I'm certain that it'll take a day or two to sort this out. Here, give me your bag, I'll put it in our room. Your linkpearl is working?"

"Yeah, and I'm still linked with you, so we're good to go. Thanks, luv." He handed over his bag and parted ways, heading to the merchants while Thancred went to the inn. After inquiring after his quarry to the guards posted there, he was directed to the man in question, and approached with a smile and a wave. "H'lo, Isembard? I'm Lysander, with the Scions. My partner is taking care of lodging, he'll be along in a while."

The wizened man gave him a smile of relief, sagging a little as if weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He beckoned for Lysander to sit next to him in the shade by the well in the center of the market. "Minfilia sent word that a team would be along shortly. She also warned us to be wary of the Amalj'aa. It seems we know who the culprits are, at the very least." He sighed again and gestured to the sparse crowd that milled about and purchased wares or went about their business. "Now, I bear no official title at this camp, but the people here have come to look to me for leadership. You have my word that I'll do all I can to help see the victims safely returned. Let us get right to it, then. Minfilia names the Amalj'aa culprits in all this. You would do well to investigate them if you can manage it safely. Much harm has been levied on these lands by their hands. The Flames burn where they might, but their light cannot stay the darkness in all places at all times."

Grinning, Lysander pulled out the metal cigarette case from his waistcoat and produced a slim cigarette, then snapped his fingers, producing his usual flame. "Well, lucky for you I've got plenty of flame to spare." He lit the fragrant brown stick and put away the case. "So Drybone is hardly near to civilization, but at the same time, there's fuck-all to hide behind out there. They're huge and obviously _not_ the sort what usually pass through here. That they're able to abduct people means either they're taking travelers on the road, or someone's helping them out." He inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled slowly. "Now, granted, it's possible that reports of their movements and abductions are just fabricated and are covering up someone else doing the dirty deed. Do we have evidence of their involvement?"

"Before today, no, simply word of mouth and survivors' stories. We had seen some activity in one of their encampments out by Sandgate, but nothing that we can call unusual. However, the Flames on patrol did encounter a raiding party in the area earlier, giving weight to these claims. But I sense there is more to this than meets the eye. The occasional Amalj'aa raiding party would not account for people going missing in these kinds of numbers. The total is too great, and the questions too many. It would not surprise me in the least to learn of another hand in this."

Lysander took another long drag off of his cigarette and blew a thin, slow stream of smoke as he observed the people in the market, watching for anything of interest or suspicion. "Well, given the crystal theft it does sound like they're preparing a summoning, yeah, but this place is way too small to have enough of a population to hit, and even though the defenses aren't much it's still enough to repel an incursion. And just taking random travelers? Not enough, there's something else going on, and while the crystal caravan was hit its people were left behind." He flicked away ash and took another drag. "My gil is on an inside job here."

"But who?" huffed Isembard, "countless travelers pass through Drybone every day, and even if our culprit was one among them, how would we best discover who may be implicit in these vanishings?" He tapped a finger to his knee as he likewise gazed around the people in the market. "What say we turn an eye to the commonfolk themselves? It may be among them that we find the reasons for these vanishings, Twelve forbid it be so. There is a merchant by the name of Ungust who was born here in Drybone and grew up in the Golden Bazaar. A...rough character, but he knows the people here better than anyone else. I'd wager he's at the inn, quaffing away the day's earnings. Here, I'll write a note for you to show him, else he's not like to speak to you," said the old man, pulling out paper and a bit of charcoal to write something out, and Lysander stood to stretch before taking the slip of paper.

"Thanks, mate, I'll see what I can find out. Back in a while." He folded the paper carefully so as not to smudge it and strolled toward the inn, feeling quite good that he was already making a contribution not only to the Scions, but helping out those in need. By the time he had got to the tavern his smoke was spent, and like always, he incinerated the last of it and scattered the ash to the wind. He very nearly walked into Thancred on the way in, and he grinned to have caught up so quickly. Filling his partner in on what he knew, he gave the rogue a couple of minutes to consider it all.

"Hmm, that lines up with the information I heard, and what I expect as well. Here, since you've got a lead on that merchant, I'll go and do a bit of skulking about town myself, see if I can pick up a trail or some clues where you might have missed, and hit a few angles now that I've got a bit more to work with than you did."

"Sounds good, meet you over at the well later, yeah?" They exchanged a quick hug and Thancred went to go explore the area that hadn't been investigated yet, and Lysander continued on his way into the inn. As he entered the tavern he realized that he had forgotten to get a description of this "Ungust," and asked the nearest person behind the bar if they could help. He was directed to one of three people there, all of them getting rather drunk and looking somewhat miserable about it. As he approached the man from behind, something tickled at the back of his mind, and he snarled when he realized that he recognized him.

Ungust pushed back his chair, apparently to get another drink, and nearly bumped into Lysander. He growled a warning, then recognized him as well, his eyes wide with surprise before they narrowed with anger. "Well, gods be damned! You're that bloody adventurer who threatened me back in Ul'dah! What in the seven hells do you want with me now!?"

"Oh fuck off, mate, I'm not here for you, I need your help and was told to find you. I had no idea it would be _you_ , though," he huffed, handing over the note. Taking it with more force than necessary, Ungust glared at him with distrust and skimmed the letter.

“Dear friend... Missing people... Please help..." He paused to hiccup and sway on his feet, clearly intoxicated. "Yours, Isembard. Tch, folk around here are as wary as they come. They'll turn tail and run if you so much as pass wind nearby." He waved the note idly and dropped back into his chair, looking extremely put-out. "Played them all for fools and coaxed some hard labor out of them, I did. If anything, they're even more timid than before, what with all the disappearances. You can go talk to 'em yourself if you don't believe me." This was phrased as a hint to go away so he could get back to drinking, and Lysander decided he might as well do so, if anything because something about the man made him really, _really_ want to punch him in the face. This desire intensified over the next hour, as all of his attempts to coax information from the locals was met with fear and protestations of ignorance to the subject. Strangely, he encountered no hostility, and he filed this away as "interesting." He returned to the merchant, who must have been drinking heavily-watered drinks, because the five empty mugs on the table should have put nearly anyone under it, regardless of their alcohol tolerance.

Giving him a glare again, Ungust took a long swig from his sixth mug. "Just as I told you, wasn't it? The whole lot of them are terrified." His case of hiccups had returned and he belched softly and made a face when it apparently went up his nose. "Ow, arse. That bloody... Ugh. Anyway, there's been talk of folk getting abducted, but if you ask me, they simply up and moved on to a better place. This place isn't exactly Costa del Sol, if you know what I'm saying. Now shove off so I can enjoy this in peace."

Turning on his heel, Lysander stalked out of the tavern and returned to his initial contact, flopping down next to him and exhaling loudly through his nose. Isembard had looked hopeful at first, but his features drooped at the younger man's expression. "Welcome back, Lysander, have you learned aught of import?" Relating the conversations he'd had, Lysander closed his eyes and leaned back against the well, hooking his elbows over the edge and resting his head on it, and Isembard stroked his beard as he thought about the meager clues that had been gathered. "I see... I suppose I should have expected as much from Ungust. Well, another thought occurred to me in your absence. The commonfolk are nothing if not fervent in their religious beliefs. Perhaps if they speak freely to their gods, then the clergy may know something of use."

Cracking one eye half-open at the old man, Lysander hummed in his throat. "There's a church up the hill, isn't there? Saint Adama or the like, aye? Been a while since I was through here last, and I can't say I'm terribly spiritual myself."

"Aye, that's the one, the Church of Saint Adama Landama. It is small and humble, just to the northwest. Hmm, in addition to the clergy, seek out a man named Marques, he tends the graves of the lichyard. He might have learned something that the clergy have not."

"Eh, I've got no other leads, let's see if I can get something useful here. Thanks, mate." The walk to the church wasn't terribly long, although it technically was a bit of a climb, as Drybone was nearly subterranean, and the church on a hill. It wasn't enough to even break a sweat, however, and upon entering the grounds he encountered someone who appeared to be a Hyur, dressed in long brown robes and with the deep hood pulled over his head. There were smudges of dirt on his clothes, likely from working outside, and Lysander figured that this was one of the people he sought. "H'lo, mate, I'm looking for a Marques, that's you?"

Blinking in surprise, the man's face was mostly shrouded by the hood, though Lysander did catch a thick but short-trimmed white beard before he got a good look at the man proper. Yet again, something itched in the back of his mind. He seemed familiar, but why? The other man betrayed no sign of recognition, however, only giving him a somewhat distant and unfocused look. "I am Marques, yes. Can I be of assistance?" Lysander explained his purpose, and the other man shook his head slowly, his voice soft and almost detached. "Missing people? I...I'm afraid I cannot help you. But maybe Sister Ourcen can. She has been kind to me. Everyone...everyone has been so kind. I don't know why, though. I..." He put a hand to his head, suddenly unsteady, but waved Lysander away when he stepped forward to assist. "Pardon me. You will find Sister Ourcen within the church walls. It's all wrong. I...I should have..." He staggered off, and much as Lysander wanted to try and assist, he knew it was none of his damn business. Besides, he had other business, and he sighed deeply to himself, knowing that he was going to be doing a _lot_ of running around and getting very few answers for his trouble.

The doors were large and heavy, but the hinges were well-maintained, as they swung open easily and without a sound, and he let himself in, pausing just inside to get his bearings. A female Hyur, wearing similar robes to Marques, but in white, and much shorter than himself, was sitting and reading a book, but had looked up at his entrance. Closing the book, she stood and bowed, and he returned it as he approached. "Hey, mate. Hate to bother, but I'm with the Scions about the missing people in the area, was wondering if I could get a bit of your time and some information. Isembard said that they might talk to you about their concerns more than they would other locals or strangers, so..."

She appeared surprised by both his request and forthright manner, but she smiled and nodded demurely. "I will provide what assistance that I can, thank you for your help, adventurer. It is true I am closer to the people than any other of the Order. I confide in them, and they in me. When they wish to speak to their keeper, Thal, I am the medium through which they do. Should I learn anything pertinent, I will be sure to share the information with you."

"Thanks, I don't want to pry or get into people's secrets and personal business, but if there's anything you hear that'll help us figure out what's happening that'll help. Hunh, help..." He turned to look back, and the cleric asked him what was on his mind. "Mm, nothing, I guess, just Marques. I think I know him, but I can't be sure, and he just seemed really out of it. Kinda worried for him, but he's not my business, so I'm not gonna pry."

She sighed and shook her head. "I pray he did nothing to offend. He saw...terrible things during the Calamity... His scars run deep. Indeed, he seems to now prefer the company of the dead over the living."

"Ouch, poor guy, I know what that's like. Well, kinda, I saw some bad stuff but forgot about it for- Ah, never mind. Right, thanks again, I'm going to head back to Drybone, and if something comes up send word on down and I'll be here as soon as I can, no matter what the time." He excused himself and left, keeping an eye out for Marques, but didn't see the man again. His stride was determined and quick, and instead of taking the ramp on down he jumped, using his skill with wind aether to slow and break his fall. This startled a few people, Isembard one of them, and Thancred another, who was just walking up.

"Seven hells, Lys, one of these days you're going to bugger that up and I'm not going to be much help in putting you back together."

"Eh, it'd be my fault for losing focus," Lysander grinned, "anyway, the good sister wasn't much help, to be honest, she seemed like she wanted to help but didn't have anything at the moment, and I get the feeling she wanted me out of there. Can't say I blame her, really, some random person shows up and starts asking the questions I did? Were I in her position I'd be a bit leery myself until I had the chance to get some intel from a trusted source. Well, did _you_ find anything at least?"

Thancred sat down and looked rather pained, and Lysander offered a pat on the shoulder before joining him. "I, too, spoke with Ungust- longer than I care to count. What an overfull sack of..." He massaged his temples and sighed again. "But, there seems to be some truth to this notion of the commonfolk speaking their secrets only to those in service to the gods. Hmm... Prostration, prayer, penance. Abject deeds done behind closed doors, away from prying eyes. Who better to take the pious unawares than she who takes confession- the good Sister Ourcen herself?"

Isembard gasped and lowered his voice. "Ourcen!? She wouldn't... She couldn't!"

Lysander and Thancred shrugged at the same time, and the rogue scratched his chin as he thought. "It's a possibility. Though we have no evidence at the moment it is worth investigating. Even the most beautiful roses have thorns, my friend. And you would be wise to keep an eye to this rose."

"Aye, I had thought the same," yawned Lysander, stretching his arms over his head, "but again, I want more data before we begin pointing fingers. Though... You know I swear up and down that I'd seen that Marques bloke before. Must have run into him last time I was through here or something, 'cause he sure as shite doesn't seem the type to go faffing out and about like I do."

Standing again, Thancred glanced at the sky to get an idea of the time and folded his arms across his chest. "Well, we've plenty of daylight left. If you don't mind hitting the Golden Bazaar a bit north of here I'll see if I can do a bit of scouting just outside the town, see if I can pick up any trails or the like. It's a far shot but if anything else it might rule out a few things."

"On it. If I can't find out _something_ useful by the time I get back I'm setting fire to something on principle."

"So that's why you carry those cigarettes!"

Lysander snorted and rolled his eyes, waving at his companions and taking the northern path up and out, then the road to the trading post just to the northwest. He had a good feeling about this, at least, if anything else because people always appreciated free drinks and the chance to exchange the latest gossip, and in a place like that there was _always_ something juicy to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.
> 
> And if you want even more intersting (and often better!) stuff, and enjoy both reading and writing fanfiction, come join us over at [Emet Selch's Wholesomely Debauched & Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/EYzbYsf). We're mostly focused on FFXIV but we have writers and readers from many fandoms and are there to not only read and write some great stuff, but hype each other up to do so, because darn it, fanfiction just doesn't get the love that it deserves!//


	10. Untempered Soul, Stolen Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //So it only took TEN DAMN CHAPTERS to get to this fight, let's see if I can't pick up the pace a bit, yeah? I mean, yes, I'm trying to put down some decent foundations for later stuff and to help establish this world (since some stuff differs a bit from the game itself), but at the same time, GET A BLOODY MOVE ON. :P
> 
> EDIT: I somehow cut out an entire section from the Ifrit fight when I was cleaning up that section. Fixed now, oops!!//

Thumbs hooked in his belt loops, Lysander whistled to himself as he strolled along the road to the Golden Bazaar. He had considered going back to get a mount to take less time, but then it occurred to him that he could be potentially attacked, and this brightened his mood. Fighting some bandits and ruffians who sought to prey on the weak and defenseless? How fun! For another few minutes he considered trying to alter his posture and appearance to look more helpless and unassuming, but dismissed this, as he was dressed much too well for that sort of thing. His musing was interrupted by a woman's cries for help, and without thinking he broke into a fast run, already at his top speed by the time he realized what he was doing. In less than a minute he was there, calling his weapon to his hand when he saw three figures in dark clothes beating up a prone, whimpering figure curled up on the ground. At his arrival they stopped and turned to him, weapons raised.

He called fire to his other hand, and grinned when the three abandoned their current quarry to attack him instead. "Ha! I love it when you fuckers choose the hard way!" he laughed, focusing his aether around himself and crossing the distance from _here_ to _there_ in the blink of an eye, piercing one man through completely. It wasn't technically a fatal hit, he was aiming for a non-lethal spot, but it did have the effect of _really fucking hurting_ , and the man went down screaming in pain. Like he had in Ul'dah the other day, he pivoted on one foot and neatly parried the incoming sword strike. The other man's weapon went flying, and he went down as well, rolling on the ground to dispel the aetheric flames that now consumed his clothes. The third circled Lysander warily, his spear leveled at him, as they certainly hadn't counted on someone like him interfering. Still grinning, Lysander aimed his own weapon at the bandit, calling both lighting and fire to his other hand, laughing at the way the other man's eyes widened in fear. "Y'got two choices, mate, you can either have a go at me and get destroyed, or you can fuck off with your mates and save yourself some pain."

It almost seemed like the third bandit was contemplating fighting, but instead backed away and circled toward one of his fallen comrades, and Lysander tossed his rapier into the air and dismissed it. "Smart man! Right, I'm going to help her up, and if you're still here by the time I'm done I'm going to stop being nice." He deliberately turned his back to them, keeping an ear out just in case-

And of course, the lancer took this opportunity to try to stab Lysander from behind. Rolling his eyes, Lysander waited until he sounded close enough, then ducked and moved to the side, extending a leg to trip his assailant. The lancer went sprawling as Lysander snatched the spear from his hand, then sighed and stabbed it into the ground beside the bandit's head. There was a whimper of terror as the dancer put a boot in between the man's shoulders, grinding him further into the dirt. "Right, what part of 'fuck off' did you miss? She needs help and I'd rather do that first, but if I need to kill all three of you to have the peace in which to do it then I can easily spare an extra thirty seconds. Now, I say again, _fuck off_." With an added kick to the ribs (less to injure and more to scare him into running), Lysander went to assist the fallen woman, who hadn't moved at all. "Hey, mate, you okay? It's alright, I've- Wait, Sister Ourcen?"

The priestess from the church peeked out at him from behind her fingers, her face in her hands, but pulled them away as she gasped in surprise. "You- You're the adventurer from earlier."

"Aye, I was off to the Bazaar to get more info about the missing people, wasn't expecting to see you, good thing I- _Fuck!_ Are they-" He stood up abruptly, seeing the two injured ones carrying their stabbed companion between them as they staggered away as fast as they could, and was about to go after them again when he played back the fight in his mind, then hissed through his teeth and crouched on his heels again. "No, they're not traffickers. Wrong weapons, and no ropes or manacles or restraints of any kind. Just common thieves. I _should_ probably kill them on principle, but ugh, I'll mess with that later." He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a sigh, offering his other one to her. "But even so, they were still being extremely rough with you, are you alright? ...Er, well, y'know..."

She groaned as she sat up, a dark bruise already coloring one cheek. "I...am not unharmed, but I am far better than I would have been if you had not shown up. My gratitude is yours, good sir. I...was going to purchase some trinkets and sweets for the children under my charge at the church." Wincing as she finally sat up, she shook her head. "We do not have much, and coin is scarce, but I do what I can to make them smile. And one of the boys there lost something precious to him, a ring his mother had given to him before she died. I was retracing the path he had taken when he was playing out here the other day and had just found it when I was attacked. I should have been paying more attention, but I was just so relieved..."

This caused a small, sharp twinge in Lysander's gut, and he remembered the refugee woman in Ul'dah, who he had rescued in similar fashion. There were too many with so little, and far too many who preyed upon them. And he had a good sense for people; her words were true and her desire to provide for her charges genuine. Turning, he gestured for her to get on. "Here, arms around my neck, luv, I'll take you back to Drybone so you can get looked at. You're probably still a bit wound up and aren't feeling the pain just yet, but probably in another ten or fifteen minutes it'll wear off and it's not going to be nice." She hesitated a moment, though not out of fear, rather, she didn't want to impose. But his warm smile and insistence upon it changed her mind, and she groaned softly as she stood up enough to drape herself over his back, arms over his shoulders. He carefully hooked his arms behind her knees and stood, shifting to make sure she wouldn't fall, then returned to the town. It was slower going, but he arrived just as dusk was falling, and Isembard jumped to his feet when he saw them.

"Lysander! Sister Ourcen? Oh! What happened?"

"Bandits on the way to the Bazaar," Lysander supplied, "I got there in time but she needs medical attention. Where do we-"

"This way," was the command, as Isembard strode off quickly for a man of his age, and Lysander grinned at his earnest determination. They arranged for a room for her at the inn, and thankfully, they did have a healer in town, who was summarily summoned, and both men were shooed from the room so that she could begin treatment.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Lysander sighed. "Well, so much for the Bazaar. What's the night life there like? I might still be able to get info if trade runs at all hours, but- He noticed someone teleporting in at the aetheryte, and blinked when he saw it was Thancred. "Hunh, I wonder if he found anything." The two of them made their way to the rogue, who had noticed them, though he seemed surprised by Lysander's presence.

"Back so soon? I thought that you'd be gone longer, unless there really was nothing to be found there," he queried, and Lysander folded his arms across his chest, shrugging.

"I was almost there, but do you remember that Sister I talked to at the church? Looks like she was on her way there as well and got jumped by bandits. I just got back, and she's being treated now."

Thancred's eyes went wide as he glanced toward the inn. "Thieves attacking a woman of the cloth? Is there no decency anymore at all?"

"Seems like it," Lysander huffed, "and further, I think we can safely take her off of our list. She's been taking care of orphans in the area, and she got jumped because she was distracted trying to find an heirloom that one of them had lost. She's a decent person, and I feel a bit bad now for being suspicious."

Looking somewhat chagrined, Thancred shook his head. "As do I, not only for my own suspicions, but her injuries as well. She really is a rose, then, one sweet and lovely, and I'm strong enough to admit my mistake. But there's one thing about which I am _not_ mistaken." He reached inside of his shirt and pulled out a scroll that he had tucked inside for safekeeping. "Found an encampment of Amalj'aa and figured I should have a look around, and what do I find but a leaflet." He handed it over and Lysander unrolled the paper. "Just a little something about the 'wealth of Nald to the hands of your children.' I'm hardly a spiritual scholar, but the lettering is horrible and even I know these bits about Nald'thal are absolute bollocks."

Reading it, Lysander frowned and handed it over to Isembard for inspection. "Same. You don't grow up in Ul'dah without picking up a little bit about its _patron fucking deity_ , and all of that is rubbish. That's our key right there, now to figure out who the seven hells wrote that bloody thing. Hmm... I'm going to run this by the good Sister, see what she thinks, maybe she might have heard of or remembered someone asking about Nald'thal so they'd have enough info to get this, well, not right, but not _completely_ wrong." He took back the letter as it was handed to him again, and rolled it up. "Back in a few, I'll meet you both back at the well once I've got a bit more to work with."

At the inn, the priestess had been successfully treated and was allowed visitors, and Lysander relaxed to see her doing better, as well as the smile of joy she gave to him. "Ah! My savior comes again. To what do I owe the honor this day?" she giggled, slightly tipsy from a draught she had been given to dull her aches a little. The amusement became curiosity when Lysander gave her the leaflet and explained its source, and she gasped and shook her head. "What is this? Blasphemous... These are not our teachings at all! This was not made by any true brother or sister of the Order- of that, I can assure you." She nearly crumpled the letter in her anger, then smoothed it out and handed it back. "Come to think of it, weeks ago, the church was plagued by missing garments. Could someone be posing as a priest of the Order to deceive the people?"

Sighing again, Lysander rolled it back up and tucked it into his belt. "Bugger, I was thinking of something like that, looks like we've got a lead after all." He gave her a smile and a wave. "Thanks again for the information, and hopefully this should help us find those responsible." He returned to his companions and sat down, relaying what he had been told, which further dismayed Isembard. The man ran a hand over his head, his shoulders slumped.

"I'm afraid I have not seen any unusual activity. Nor have any at this camp given me cause to doubt them. But unless we can identify the culprit, and soon, more innocents will fall victim..."

Lysander saw Thancred's expression change, and he grinned, recognizing the rogue spinning up a plan. "Do not despair just yet, my friend. An idea occurs to me." This seemed to get Isembard to perk up, and Thancred winked at the dancer, feeling confident about his suggestion. "Our suspect has been posing as a priest, using leaflets bearing false promises to lure the poor. Let us serve like with like by posing as impoverished souls in need of succor."

Stifling a cackle of glee, Lysander leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Oh, I like where this is going. Got any ideas how we can pull that off, though? We've already been sniffing around town all day, and I'm really bloody recognizable." With a smirk and a flourish, Thancred produced something from his belt pouch, and Lysander had to once more muffle his amusement. "Oh, glamour prisms, you clever man. Have they already been set?"

"Not yet, but give me ten minutes to tweak a few things and I'll make sure that even we couldn't recognize each other!"

"Right, you do that, I'm bloody well starving, so meet me at the inn and I'll have something ordered for us." As he had promised, he ordered some hearty stew and a loaf of dark brown bread, and almost couldn't wait for Thancred to join him before digging in, instead having a beer to take the edge off (which also had the effect of being more effective on an empty stomach). When the rogue did arrive and gave the tankard an amused look, Lysander stuck his tongue out at him and pushed one toward him, having got another. "Oh take off, you know my alcohol tolerance, this will be gone by the time we start working. And I got one for you, too, since I know your tolerance is better than mine and you could use a drink after all of that walking." There were no further words as they ate, as the first bite reminded them of just how ravenous they both were, and it took a bit of self-control to not eat too quickly. Their meal complete and the last of the stew mopped up with the bread, they pushed away from the table, using each other for support as they gave the impression of two tired drunks heading off to their room to sleep off the day.

Once inside their room they were professionals again, and Lysander examined the prisms he was handed. "Right, here you go," Thancred said, stepping back to use his own, "I'm changing your hair and eye color, and your clothes. Easy enough, and in the dark nobody will notice anything amiss. And it being night and quieter, news of two refugees poking about should gain traction more quickly. Ready to be a useful nuisance?"

"You say that like I'm ever not," Lysander chuckled, activating the prisms, then examined himself in the mirror to get "in-character." His copper-red hair and hazel eyes were now midnight-black and blue, and he hummed to himself appreciatively. "Not bad. I'm still most attractive as a ginger, but I do say that I like this combination." His clothes were now the ragged slops and tunic of someone who had worn them as their only garments for months, and sandals that barely qualified as shoes. "Hmm, okay, I've got it. Well, you go west, I'll go east, and we meet at the well to pool our findings in two hours?"

Agreeing, Thancred used his own prisms, and the platinum hair became shaggy and a nondescript brown, with clothes that matched his own. The two of them grinned at each other, enjoying the thrill of a mission and working with skilled partners, then ducked into the shadows and left the room silently, parting ways once they were outside. After ensuring that he wasn't being watched, Lysander exited the shadows, affecting a slight limp in his walk; not much, but anyone looking for easy marks would pick up on it. He also dropped his usual voice for a heavy Limsan accent, and with his disguise complete, he began to seek out those who would definitely turn him away as well as those who looked like they engaged in gossip. It would make a bit of a mess if he _did_ get offered work and have to refuse it, or waste time taking care of that task instead of his actual mission. His disguise and plan were working flawlessly, though he very nearly broke character when he encountered a devotee of Azeyma, preaching the "honey of Her wisdom," as the man put it. Amused, Lysander allowed him to continue, and the other man smiled and stretched his arms wide, as if to give his words greater gravitas. "Azeyma is keeper of the sun and goddess of inquiry. All is laid bare beneath the light of Her divine countenance. Open thy heart to this light, thou who art in need, and thou shalt want for naught till the end of days!" It took all of Lysander's self-control to not burst out laughing. Seven hells, he very nearly was an avatar of the goddess herself! However, he politely excused himself, stating that it was his body that needed help, not his soul, but wished him well and went on his way.

He continued his deliberately-futile attempts to coax work out of the residents, until, shoulders slumped with apparent resignation, he shuffled to the well and sat down with a thump next to Isembard, staring at the ground between his feet. Smiling to himself when he heard familiar footsteps approach, he glanced to the side when Thancred sat down on the old man's other side. "Well, I've made a right bother of myself," he mumbled in a voice low enough that only they would hear, "I even got told off by the Flames, I feel proper chuffed about that. And I think I've got a lead on where to go."

"Same," Thancred replied, ostensibly staring off at nothing while he leaned wearily back against the well, "did you get told to piss off to that pond to the east?"

"By Sandgate? Aye. How convenient that it's so far away from town and therefore away from the watchful eyes of the Flames." Lysander shifted his position a little, finding it a little uncomfortable to hunch over for so long. "So, you think you're up for a late night stroll by the waterside?"

Thancred chuckled without actually smiling. "How romantic. Well, since we've been trying not to be seen together we'd best leave apart. Why don't you head on ahead first? I saw you with that limp going on, and if you're going to keep up that act it'll slow you a bit."

"Mmph, I'm already regretting it, I'll need you to work my back when we get back to the room," agreed Lysander, getting to his feet with a groan that wasn't feigned, "let's hope that our quarry was actually here and paying attention, or I'll be annoyed as hell that I wasted such a good performance for nothing." He left town and headed east, ensuring that he was seen by those who he'd talked with and that his destination was obvious. But without trying to be _too_ obvious about it. Even with his self-imposed handicap he made decent time, as his travels had taken him all over Eorzea, and he'd always had a fondness for maps, so even places he'd not directly been were often known about already. Arriving at what could generously be called a "pond" (and more accurately as a muddy patch of brackish water suitable only for breeding mosquitoes), he took the time to walk around the area. He made it look as though he were looking for other people like himself, but the rogue in him looked for people like himself as well. Not only that, he checked for anything of use, that could be a hazard, anything that, well, just _anything_. No sense in not learning everything about the place that he could, just in case. Shortly after, Thancred arrived, and after exchanging what looked like surprised but friendly greetings, they found a dry place to sit, well-lit by the moon so that they would definitely be noticed.

"A fine evening for catching false priests," Thancred mused, swatting away an inquisitive fly.

"An even finer one for sharing a bed with an attractive companion later on," Lysander replied, snickering at the way that Thancred rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, "though if this mad plan actually nets us someone of interest I'll- Shit, it actually worked." He and Thancred spotted the traveler approaching via the road at the same time, but pretended not to notice him yet. "Well, looks like it's time for the next act to begin. Ready, luv?"

"Am I ever unprepared?" They continued to pretend to remain unaware of the stranger's approach until Thancred looked up and gasped, scrambling to his feet.

The stranger, dressed in the same robes as those from the church, raised his hands to show that he was unarmed, then stroked the sigil for Nald'thal that hung from a chain around his neck. "Oh, you poor, unfortunate souls. This is no way for men to live. No way at all." To most people his voice sounded reassuring, but both of them could hear the twisted smile and predatory edge in it.

Lysander got to his feet once more (with another groan of pain that wasn't faked) while Thancred gave the "priest" a wary look. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Be at ease, child, for I mean you no harm. I am a priest of the Order of Nald'thal, and I come to offer you succor." Lysander snorted at the use of "child" but disguised it behind a wheezing cough, and the priest handed over one of the leaflets that Thancred had discovered at the Amalj'aa encampment. "This bears the teachings of Nald. Trust to them, and they will surely set you free from the shackles of penury!"

Taking it and pretending to read it with scrutiny, Thancred shook his head. "Hmmm... A tempting offer, but I'm afraid I must decline... On account of that atrocious performance. You would have made a gods–awful mummer, Ungust." He crumpled the leaflet as Lysander put a flavored cigarette to his lips and tucked the metal case away, smirking as he did so.

"Wh- What!? How did you know-!?" snarled the false priest, then the color drained from his face when Lysander snapped his fingers, summoning his usual flame, which he wrapped around himself for a moment to hide his dispelling of the glamours as he lit the cigarette. Blowing out a thin stream of smoke, he grinned as the other man's eyes grew wide and terrified. "P-Please don't hurt me! I was only doing it to protect my people!"

Arms folded across his chest and his own glamour removed, Thancred raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Do continue."

Ungust licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry, looking like a rabbit cornered by wolves. "I'm a man of the Golden Bazaar. Raised there, if not born. Some moons ago, the Amalj'aa raids began. They would appear sudden as a sandstorm, and plunder and pillage at will. Our defenders couldn't stand against them, few as they were. Everyone lived in fear." Both rogues remained silent and unmoving, and after a moment Ungust continued, picking at his robes. "I wanted to save my people, but being a merchant was all I knew. And so I did the only thing a merchant could- I approached the Amalj'aa in hopes of brokering a deal. In return for sparing the Golden Bazaar, they made demands, outrageous ones."

Lysander continued to remain silent, taking slow, deep pulls from his cigarette as he paid attention to the details of the way Ungust spoke; not _what_ was said, but _how_. Frowning, Thancred took a step forward. "Demands? Of what kind, pray tell?" The cold edge to his voice made their quarry hesitate in answering.

"First of all, they wanted the schedule for crystal shipments from the Nanawa Mines. For this, I bribed one of the workers to leak me the information. Next, they wanted me to bring them people. So, I posed as a priest to lure in the vulnerable and give them over to the Amalj'aa." His voice was now a pleading whimper. "I...I didn't have a choice..."

"That is total _bullshit_ ," Lysander snarled, finally breaking his silence, and Thancred gave him a glance out of the corner of his eye, but remained focused on Ungust.

The rogue clicked his tongue as he huffed a sigh of restrained irritation. "Protecting one's home is a noble thing...but at the cost of innocents? You could have sought the aid of the Immortal Flames, yet you did not. I suspect you are not telling me the full story. What made you sell out your own people?"

Wringing the hem of his robes in his hands, Ungust mumbled something, and Thancred snapped at him to speak up, his patience close to spent. "The coin was good, I said!" replied Ungust in an angry hiss, "I could sell mole meat for a score of lifetimes and not see even a fraction of what the Amalj'aa pay me!"

"Swiving whoreson," Lysander snarled, his weapon in his hand without thinking, "you sacrificed innocents so that you could line your own pockets?"

For a moment the merchant found a bit of backbone, though it was only through a flash of temporary anger. "Spare me your contempt! If you want to blame someone for the mess the world's in, then blame yourselves or the gods!"

Thancred had to step between them when lightning crackled up Lysander's other arm and fire spiraled along the edge of his blade. "Hold, mate, this is just like the old missions with the Guild. He belongs to the authorities now, and we have the leads we need to stop further people going missing, and we stand a chance of finding those who have already been taken. Justice _will_ be done." He squeezed his companion's arm, ignoring the risk of being shocked, knowing that Lysander wouldn't hurt him, and was proven right when the dancer released his aether and weapon.

Taking a drag from the half of what was left from his cigarette, Lysander exhaled another stream of smoke and nodded. "...I know. He's not worth my time or energy."

Ungust was rooted in terror, knowing that he was a dead man for certain if he ran, but might survive if he played to their good graces. With another glare, Thancred turned his attention back to the imposter-priest. "Were you the one leaking the Immortal Flames' patrol routes to the enemy as well?"

"No! I know nothing about that! I swear it!" pleaded the disgraced man, and Lysander was next to glare at him.

"I don't believe it. You're in on it, I just don't know how yet. Tch." He flicked the ash off of his cigarette. "Like he said, you belong to the authorities now, so get your ass moving unless you want me to drag you the entire way. I can and I will, and if you run, oh, don't worry, I won't kill you. It takes a lot of skill to not kill someone and I am very, _very_ skilled." He set off again without looking back, finishing his cigarette and knowing that the other two would follow; he would keep an eye in front of them for trouble, Thancred would do the same behind, and between them Ungust marched, his head down and hands tucked inside his sleeves. 

Thankfully, there was no further excitement back to Drybone, and the Immortal Flames on the night shift were curious at first to see them, then surprised when Lysander walked up to their lieutenant and saluted. She stared at him for a moment, having already noticed his rank (and that her First Flame outranked his Second Flame status), and chuckled. “They’re commissioning adventurers now, are they? Well, I’m not too proud to work alongside your like. What’s with the priest, is he- wait, Ungust? Why are you-” She made a few connections and her lips twisted with disgust. “I see, you’ve found our kidnapper. I’m angry that we didn’t notice sooner, but…” Sighing, she shook her head. “I’ll have my men interrogate him for more information, but if I could debrief the both of you myself…”

One of the sergeants took Ungust by the arm and led him inside of their headquarters and was followed by three others, following the lieutenant’s plan, and she beckoned Lysander and Thancred to follow her to her office. There, they relayed their mission, their findings, and everything that they had learned, which she carefully wrote down. She flexed her hand and winced when they finished talking, as there had been a lot to record. “This is...quite a development, but it explains a lot. Fortunately, it is unlikely that his allies know that he has been compromised, and I would use that to my advantage.”

Lysander and Thancred shared a look, and in it, an entire conversation, then nodded. Thancred tapped his ear and stood up. “Allow me a few minutes to check in, then I would see this through to the end, but I want guidance from my people before we press on.”

She nodded and stood as well. “I must needs do the same; we don’t have the boots on ground, but I’m certain that I can call upon reinforcements by morning for this, especially if I can promise the support of the Scions. We _must_ rescue the abductees, and each hour that passes reduces our chances of finding them. However, rushing in recklessly will only get people killed. Can I guarantee your support before I make my request to my superiors?”

Grinning, Lysander was the last to get to his feet. “Even orders to sit on my arse couldn’t get me to stay back. I’m a Flame, too, luv, and I’m not leaving until those people are safe.”

“I cannot imagine our assistance being denied, either,” Thancred smiled, “this _is_ our mission, after all. The Antecedent will likely offer you all of the support that we can provide, just tell us where to go.”

Looking relieved, the lieutenant picked up her notes. “I will reach out to my chain of command now, and again when we have extracted more information from Ungust. Once we have that and a plan of action we will reach out to you. Do we have a way to do so?”

“Aye, we’re lodged at the inn,” replied the dancer, “and unless we’re needed immediately I was going to try to get a couple of hours of sleep. It’s been a bit of a day chasing down clues, and I know for certain that we’re going to encounter a fight when we finally figure out where everyone is being held. I want to be as rested as possible, even if it does sound a bit lazy at the moment.”

“No, that’s respectable, and I fully understand. My own shift started only a couple of hours ago, so this will be my task to handle for the moment. There’s nothing more that you both can do until I have my orders, so by all means, take your leave and rest, we will have a plan in the morning.”

Lysander saluted again, feeling a small rush of satisfaction and pleasure, leaving the office behind Thancred. The two of them were silent in their own thoughts the way back to their room, and then Lysander listened to half of the conversation as Thancred filled in Minfilia via linkpearl the same as they had the lieutenant. Undressing slowly as he paid attention, Lysander draped his shirt and waistcoat over the back of a chair for lack of a better place to put them for the moment, sitting in it to take off his boots. Thancred was doing the same, and was down to his smalls by the time that he ended his conversation with Minfilia.

With a smile, Lysander gave him a soft peck on the cheek, also down to that one last layer, then sprawled on the bed on his stomach, stretching out with a soft groan. “Well, it’s been a productive day, I feel good about it. Any news or- HNNNGH, oh gods yes…” His question was interrupted when Thancred straddled his hips and dug his thumbs into the prone man’s lower back, seeking the tension he knew was there. “You have amazing hands,” he mumbled into the pillow, feeling something pop and loosen.

“And you’ve enjoyed my attentions enough to be an expert on that,” Thancred laughed, “but no, for the moment, there’s no new information on their end, and I’m to contact them again in the morning, just in case. We are, however, encouraged to assist the Flames however possible. So let’s get that rest while we can, it’s not often that we get a full night of sleep during these things.”

“Mm, not arguing…” Lysander made happy noises as Thancred worked on his back a few more minutes before joining him under the blanket, brushing aside copper hair to kiss the back of his neck. “Hee… You’re a good man, mate, I hope you find someone that deserves you,” mumbled the dancer, barely awake.

“Oh really, who deserves to have me inflicted upon them?” was the huffed reply, though there was a hint of a smile in it.

Cracking one eye open at him, Lysander rolled onto his side and grabbed his partner, pulling him into a tight hug with one arm around him and fingers knotted tightly in his hair. Before Thancred could protest, he kissed him roughly and deeply, biting and tugging his lip as he pulled away. “You _do_ deserve love and someone to give it to you, and I will _not_ hear you put yourself down like that again,” he growled, licking Thancred’s neck and toying with his choker, making him shiver pleasantly, “so until then I will give you all that I can and all that you ask. Anything.” His hold softened into a hug, and he carded his fingers through the platinum hair, foreheads pressed together. “You have suffered and lost much, but I will _not_ see you throw or walk away from a chance at happiness. Okay?”

Thancred didn’t answer, but the way he let out a held breath and relaxed into Lysander’s hug was enough for the moment; it was a subject that the dancer didn’t want pushed too hard in his own direction, either, but still… That didn’t mean that he couldn’t be certain that _one_ of them could be happy. Pressing a kiss just under his partner's ear, Thancred pulled the blanket over the both of them and sighed again, shifting further into Lysander’s arms and adjusting a few things so they could be comfortable like that.

“I...will try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Legs tangled together and arms around each other, they dozed off quickly, somehow only really able to do so while on a mission; it was sometimes difficult to easily get to sleep when they were left to their own devices. They slept soundly until morning when Lysander heard a knock on the door, and he blearily and automatically got out of bed and staggered to it. Opening it, he was greeted by a Flame Sergeant, who was about to say something and then paused, noticing the other man still in his smalls. It took a few more seconds for Lysander to realize this, but he shrugged and mumbled an apology around a yawn that was stifled with a fist in his mouth.

“Oh, well, if you both are rested then your presence is requested at headquarters,” the sergeant said, “I apologize for waking you but-”

“Nah, s’okay, we’re on-call, we’ll just need a coffee or something and we’ll be okay. Give us about ten to figure out pants and we’ll be right on over.”

The sergeant replied in the positive and left, and Lysander closed the door, knuckling his back as he yawned again, giving Thancred a look of “so what?” when the rogue gave him one of “really now,” having finally woken himself. They dressed in good time, already awake by the time they left, and were grateful to see that tea and a light meal had been provided when they entered the lieutenant’s office again. She was sipping her own while she wrote something, likely a request or a report, and looked pleased to see them.

“I am sure it has already been extended, but my apologies for pulling you back in so soon. Hopefully some tea and bite to eat will help with that.”

“My lady, I would walk barefoot across a firepit for this right now,” Thancred smiled, only half-flirting, “and as he mentioned to your sergeant a bit ago, we are on-call, so this is only to be expected.”

While the both of them poured a cup and took a piece of sliced cheese and meat, she briefed them on the situation, refilling her own drink. “Ungust was difficult to pry anything out of, but we finally got him to spill something useful. It appears that he is due to meet with the Amalj’aa today to discuss a deal. They don’t know yet that he’s been compromised, so we can use this to our advantage.” She put down her cup and gave them a level gaze. “We will have Lysander lead a small force to follow Ungust and spring the trap. Once we have them prisoner we can extract the location of the abductees, where the remainder of our forces will move to and conduct a rescue operation. We would value your assistance with that portion, master Thancred.”

Both men were surprised to be tasked directly, and Lysander took an apple slice, using it to stir milk into his tea before taking a bite. “No offense, but you’d ask me to lead a squad? I had thought you’d use one of your people.”

She rested her elbows on the desk and chin on folded hands. “Yes, but you have come highly recommended from the Hall, and you are a skilled fighter as well as aether-user. That will be invaluable in this operation. Further, that rank is presumably _not_ for decoration, and you therefore are fit to lead troops. When I asked for volunteers I immediately had personnel accept.” She smirked and picked up her tea again. “It would have made my job easier if I’d known that you were the Warrior of Light.” Lysander chuckled weakly and rubbed the back of his neck, and she continued. “And you, master Thancred, are dangerous in your own right. Having you available to scout ahead and find the captured civilians will better allow us to get them out of there with a minimum of casualties and injuries on our side.”

She pulled a map of the area closer and jabbed at part of it with a gauntleted finger. “The meeting is to take place in the Invisible City, just east of the Golden Bazaar. It’s going to be a right pain in the bollocks to get there without being seen, since Thanalan is so bloody flat and empty, which is another reason why we are sending so few with you for the rendezvous. Further, because of this you are authorized to kill those you can’t capture; we can’t risk them letting their main force know that they’ve been discovered. Once you are successful and have that information contact us via linkpearl and we will move out immediately.”

Thancred nudged his partner with a grin. “Well, looks like we’ll be able to wrap this up by tonight. Provided Ungust doesn’t give you too much trouble.”

“If he does he won’t regret it for long,” Lysander chuckled, draining his cup, “I’m in no mood for fuckery, especially after the shit I’ve seen him pull myself. Well, I better go meet up with my team and get going.” He took a couple of last pieces of food and cuffed Thancred on the shoulder with a grin. “Leave some for me when you get there, aye?”

“Funny, I was going to ask the same.”

Outside, Lysander blinked a moment to adjust to daylight again and brushed final crumbs off of his hands. A sergeant approached him and saluted, which was briskly returned. “Good morning, lieutenant, we’re ready to depart when you are. The squad has been briefed and will follow your orders.”

With a chuckle, Lysander fell into step with the non-commissioned officer to meet up with the others. “That’s good, but father was also a Flame, so while I know that they’ll be looking to me for orders they’ll be looking to _you_ for guidance.”

“Ha! I’ll enjoy fighting next to you, lad, the general chose well.” Upon being introduced to the other four and doing a last check of gear and equipment (along with bonds and manacles to restrain any prisoners they took), they extracted Ungust from where he had been kept during the night. He hadn’t been treated badly, but he didn’t look as though he had slept very well, and still wore the stolen robes for a lack of anything else into which he could change.

They set off toward the Invisible City, taking a route that would allow them to hopefully avoid detection, and Lysander moved ahead of them as a scout, looking for signs of ambush or treachery. To his surprise he saw none, and any tracks he found were old, likely from previous meetings. When they were finally in visual range they halted, and Lysander looped back to them. “Right, we’re clear so far. Move on up, I’ll follow once you’re in place.” He gave Ungust a stern look. “Much as I’d like to stab you full of holes you are under my command and protection for the duration of this mission. As such, when this turns nasty, because it always fucking does, I will do what I can to keep you alive, because you can’t face proper justice on the end of an enemy spear. Stick to the plan and you’ll come back alive and safe.”

The two of them waited in place while the Flames got into position, and after waiting the designated amount of time, Lysander stretched his arms over his head, getting limber and relaxed. “Right, off with you, and I _will_ be right behind you, so no fucking about.” He stepped into the shadows, as Ungust had looked away for a moment, and the merchant jumped in surprise to find himself suddenly alone. It was clear that he had considered running for a moment, but had the sense to not act on that thought and continued on the way to their destination. Lysander frowned to himself, as Ungust looked more angry than scared. That was odd…

Still watching their surroundings, Lysander trailed the man in stolen robes to the meeting site, breaking away to link up with his squad again. He stepped out of the shadows, surprising two of them, but they had the discipline not to shout or react in an otherwise loud manner. He nodded to them, inspecting everything visually; something itched. It wasn't anything he could put his finger on, but... A Flame Private noticed and gave him a curious prod, but he offered a half-smile and a shrug. "Feels wrong," he mouthed, and she nodded. So it wasn't just him, everyone seemed on edge from something they couldn't articulate.

...

Except for Ungust and one sergeant. The merchant was standing out in the open, arms folded across his chest, looking completely at ease. There was no sign of the Amalj'aa. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck; they had walked neatly into a trap.

He put a hand to his ear and pulled hard on his aether, wrapping fire and lightning around each other and launching it into the sky with a sharp snap of his other hand, creating a flare that exploded with the sound of a thunderclap that could easily be heard all the way to Drybone and left behind a fiery sun sigil in the sky, one that would last several minutes with how much power he had dumped into it. "COPPER SUNFLOWER, FLARE UP," he shouted the moment he heard Thancred answer, "ambush! Send-" Someone hit him in the back of the head and he went down in a heap, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Lysander woke up later, unsure of how much time had passed. He winced at the pain where he had been struck, but found himself unable to move. Faking unconsciousness a bit longer, he resisted a grimace when he realized that he was bound quite securely with rope, but mentally amended that, as ropes could burn but manacles could not. His other senses filled in other gaps in his knowledge; he heard many voices, most of them the deep, gruff sound of Amalj'aa, and he could smell smoke and incense, as well as sweat and blood. They had been taken to wherever the other captives had been brought, and it was most definitely an unpleasant place. He heard the sound of someone desperately trying to hold back tears, and he decided it was as good a time as any to drop his facade. Grimacing, he growled in his throat at the pain of trying to work himself into a sitting position, unsurprised to find four of the Flames there with him, but did not expect to find Ungust and the sergeant he had marked as their traitor seconds before he had been knocked out. It was the private who had silently queried him that was on the verge of tears, and he offered her a weak smile. She was easily several years younger than him and had likely not seen the combat that he'd been through. "Hey, it'll be okay," he reassured, "just gimmie a few to get out of these ropes and I'll burn a path out." His warning and flare should have summoned the rest to their previous location fairly quickly, and there were none who could track like Thancred. All they had to do was stall a bit and potentially cause a ruckus there and it could all work out.

There was a dark snort from Ungust, and Lysander gave him a dirty look. The merchant returned it, and Lysander pinched a section of rope between his finger and thumb, focusing aether into a tight flame that could burn through his bonds without being noticed. "Interesting, they decided to toss you in here with us. You too," he said, addressing the sergeant that he assumed had hit him, and found his glare directed back at him. "No wonder the Flames could never figure out how people were going missing, they had two people inside. Well, like I said, don't worry, I'll get us all out, because you're not getting away easily, you _will_ face justice, and I will most gladly see _you_ hang for what you've done." The sergeant spat in his direction, which was somewhat hindered by one side of his face swelling a bit, likely from his own resistance to being captured.

The private's shoulders shook with quiet sobs as she gritted her teeth, trying to be brave. "They're going to kill us, aren't they!? Gods, I don't want to die! I want to go home!"

Lysander almost lost his focus for a moment, but bit his own lip to keep his mind on the task. "Hey, trust me, it'll be fine." He managed a brave smile of his own, even though he didn't feel it. "I'm the Warrior of Light, remember? I can take on any enemy. And we have support coming, we just need to hold out a little longer."

His confidence dropped suddenly when they were approached by a very large Amalj'aa, one decorated heavily in ceremonial garb and jewelry, and he bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep himself from swearing. They were starting already?! The high priest looked down on them, a tall staff in one hand, similarly festooned with baubles and arcane trinkets, and swept a hand over them. "Rejoice, heathens, for your worthless lives shall soon have meaning!"

They were grabbed by acolytes, two to a prisoner, and forcibly dragged to their feet, then marched along behind the leader. Lysander's mind raced as he quickly observed everything that he could. This was something he could manage alone, but the others? Damn! He would have to act fast if he was going to keep them from being... Actually, he had no idea _how_ they were to be given up to the primal that was to be summoned, and he mentally cursed himself for not asking Thancred everything he could. Stupid damn fool, he had been concerned more with his own carnal interests and pleasures than actually _learning his fucking job!_ One rope parted, but not enough to be noticed, and he set about trying to get three more at once. They halted when they reached the edge of an arena, and he snarled when he recognized the sigils and runes carved in circles to be used for a summoning. He wasn't sure who it was they were going to call on, but he at least knew _that_ much. Damn again, he was out of time! He had to get his squad out of there somehow, and-

The wind was knocked out of him when he was thrown to the ground, almost making him bite his tongue again. A low, sonorous chanting went up, and once more the hairs on the back of his neck went up, but this time because he could feel the aether building up in the room. Crystals of all shapes and sizes were scattered around the arena, and he could actually _taste_ the power leaking from them, being channeled into the circle, where it was slowly beginning to coalesce. Voices of the higher-ranked acolytes rose up in prayer, and Lysander frantically worked at severing his bonds, he had to get free quickly!

"Lord of the Inferno, hearken to our plea! Lord of the Inferno, deliver us from our misery!" was chanted over and over, and the head priest raised his arms and the staff high, beginning the ritual.

"O mighty Ifrit, Lord of the Inferno! Your humble servants beseech You! Grace us with Your divine presence! O mighty Ifrit! We bring before You ignorant savages who know not Your power! If it please You, Lord, scorch their heathen souls with Your cleansing flame, and mark them as Your own!"

Lysander swore to himself as he struggled to sit on his knees, hearing thuds as Ungust and the traitor sergeant being likewise thrown to the ground on either side of him. The merchant at least had _some_ spine, as he spat aside blood and glared at the high priest. "What the seven hells is going on?! This isn't what we agreed!"

The high priest looked at him as though he were some sort of disgusting bug. "None but servants of Lord Ifrit may behold the rite of summoning. The souls of unbelievers are forfeit!" He turned his back to them and continued chanting, and Lysander swore again as the aether leapt from the crystals and began to take shape in a spinning ball of flame that got larger and larger. It stretched and warped, as though unseen hands were kneading it into a different shape, and in seconds an enormous horned head with teeth the size of his hand took form, followed by four heavily-clawed limbs and a scaled tail. The creature landed in the middle of the arena with a dull thud that shook the entire room, and Lysander stared open-mouthed for a moment, nearly forgetting his task. It had just been pure aether a moment ago, how was it now corporeal flesh?!

The primal swung its head toward them and its mouth opened, hissing with delight.

" **PITIFUL CHILDREN OF MAN! BY MY BREATH I CLAIM YOU! ARISE ONCE MORE AS MY LOYAL MINIONS! FEED MY FLAMES WITH THY FAITH, AND ALL WHO STAND AGAINST US SHALL BURN!** "

The ropes parted at last, and Lysander cast them aside, getting to his feet just in time for... _something_ to wash over them. It felt like a pulse of aether, but it flowed past without touching him, like oil encountering water. His confusion lasted only a moment until he saw Ungust and the sergeant sitting up straighter, staring at Ifrit with complete adulation in their eyes, and he recoiled from it. It was the look of fanatics not in possession of their own mind, and their voices sounded distant as they spoke breathless praises unto their new god. The high priest growled at him for breaking his bindings, but stepped back when he saw that the Hyur was unaffected by Ifrit's power. "Impossible! By what sorcery do you resist my master's will!?"

Ifrit's attention was now on him, staring through him, and the creature hissed again, though this time with disdain.

" **THY SOUL ALREADY BELONGS TO ANOTHER, AS THY FRAIL MORTAL FRAME CAN SERVE AS VESSEL TO THE BLESSING OF BUT ONE. YET I SMELL NOT THE TAINT OF ANOTHER ON THEE. AH... THOU ART OF THE GODLESS BLESSED'S NUMBER. THE PARAGONS WARNED OF THINE ABHORRENT KIND, AND THINE EXISTENCE IS NOT TO BE SUFFERED. MY FLAMES SHALL CONSUME THY FLESH AND SOUL BOTH!** "

The god turned completely to him, and Lysander instinctively called his weapon to himself, first launching himself at the high priest, who screamed as his throat was opened up in a wide, bloody gash that nearly parted his head from his body. Lysander dodged the falling body and continued his mad dash toward the creature of flame. He had no plan, other than "stab it in the face," but-

But something called to him. That aether, so much aether, just floating about from the summoning, and he reached out to it. He had never been able to draw from his surroundings very well in the past, but for some reason, he felt something that he could-

Ifrit roared, exhaling a gout of flame at him that should have scorched the dancer to cinders, but Lysander shifted his focus and reached out to pull on _Ifrit's_ aether, using it to create a shield of fire in front of himself to block the blast. He blinked in shock to find himself not only still standing there unharmed, but wondering what the actual _fuck_ he had just done. ...Wait, he could tap into Ifrit's power and use it himself... A mad laugh bubbled up from deep within, and he cackled loudly, reaching out and pulling again, much to the god's indignant horror. "Yes, _YES!_ Ha ha! You want a fight, you overgrown lizard? I already survived the end of the world, and I will be the end of yours!" The aether that he pulled was still heavily fire-aspected, but he could use that; with his own power he wrapped himself in air and used it to fling himself recklessly at the monster, channeling the stolen flame along the edge of his blade. It cut deep and true into a blackened forelimb, and Ifrit howled in pain.

" **IMPUDENT MORTAL, THY SUFFERING SHALL BE ENDLESS! SUCCUMB TO THE INFERNO AND SURRENDER THYSELF TO THE FIRES OF JUDGEMENT!** "

Still laughing, Lysander now sang, his song determined and and confident as he continued to siphon the god's aether, dancing in and out to dodge all attacks with insulting ease, landing slashes and stabs that always closed behind his blade, but still appeared to rip away at his opponent's strength. The music never faltered, rather, he felt stronger, faster, and more powerful than he could ever remember. He could see where Ifrit would strike or cast, and each time he deftly avoided the attack, further spending the god's energy. After several minutes of this Ifrit leapt into the air, hovering above him, puling the remaining aether to him.

" **ENOUGH! THOU ART STRONG, MORTAL, BUT THY SOUL SHALL BURN FOR ALL ETERNITY!** "

Ifrit channeled his remaining power into a spell that would consume the entire arena, and Lysander knew instinctively that this _would_ kill him for sure. He saw his opening and once more wrapped wind around himself, sending himself higher than his foe, tearing away as much power as he could and focusing it into his blade. Holding it in both hands, he closed the distance between _here_ and _there_ , driving his weapon into Ifrit's skull, still desperately drawing power from the beast and his spell into himself and his rapier. At last, the damage to the god's corporeal form was too great, and it could no longer hold its shape. Ifrit roared one last time as his body dissipated into aetheric motes, and Lysander dropped to the ground as he let the song end, almost reluctant to let its power fade. Letting out a shaky breath, he dismissed his weapon and looked around, amazed that he had actually won. He nearly called the blade to his hand again when he heard the sounds of battle nearby, but laughed once more when he recognized them; the Flames were there!

Amalj'aa were frantically fighting a losing battle against the Grand Company soldiers that broke their line, sending them fleeing in all directions, and the acolytes around the arena likewise ran in terror, as with no god to protect them they were helpless. Further, seeing their god and high priest killed right in front of them had shaken them to their core. Watching them through a haze of adrenaline and residual power, Lysander looked around, feeling something call to him once more. There, on the ground. He knelt and picked up a crystal, one the same size as the one on his pendant. This one, however, was a deep red, and if he stared deeply into it he thought he saw the image of a dancing flame. How curious...

Tucking this into a pocket, he was about to take a step forward, intending to help with the fight, but stumbled and went to one knee. That fight had taken more out of him than he had expected, and he looked inwardly, laughing at himself when he realized just how much aether he had used. "Lysander? Thank the Twelve!" He looked up, wondering who had called his name, and fought back tears of joy when he saw Thancred running to him, looking both terrified and relieved. The dancer pushed himself to his feet again in time to be hugged tightly by his companion. Thancred's fingers dug into his back as the rogue let out a ragged gasp of relief. "Gods...I thought I had lost you again..."

"I'm not that easy to kill," Lysander chuckled, and he heard the stifled sob in the other man's laugh. "But...I admit, I was scared there. But it's okay, you're here, and I think I saw Bloodsworn with you?"

"Aye, the Flame General's handpicked soldiers," Thancred agreed, pulling away to press a hand to Lysander's face, stroking his cheek with the pad of his thumb, "but when your message cut off I thought you were dead. We saw your flare and heard the sound it had made, but by the time we got there we found nothing. I was able to find a trail, we followed it as fast as we could, and when we learned where you were we called in everyone who could hold a weapon." He hugged Lysander again, looking better but still desiring the physical contact. "I owe you my deepest apologies. Had I known this mission would prove so dangerous, I would never have left you to face it alone." He laughed again, kissing his cheek. "You have been given a veritable baptism of fire."

Lysander found himself laughing as well, hearing a slightly manic edge to it, and knew that he would need a few minutes to sit and gather himself. As he pulled away and took a deep breath to find his center again, they were approached by another Flame sergeant, a Sergeant First Class according to her rank, who saluted, and Lysander reflexively returned it. "Well glad am I to see you alive, lieutenant, and having survived against Ifrit, no less! Sadly, many prisoners have been tempered, including those who had gone with you, but your efforts have allowed us to safely recover nearly everyone who was taken."

Puzzled, Lysander rolled one word over in his mind. "Tempered? What's that?" He saw the look of shame and guilt on Thancred's face, and his stomach began to tie into knots. "...What happened to those people?"

"...I'll take it from here, sergeant, if you don't mind," Thancred said quietly, and the non-com nodded, excusing herself to go direct troops. Biting his lip, Thancred rubbed his own arms, and Lysander's stomach tightened further, unaccustomed to seeing his partner looking so, well, defeated. "They may be whole of body, but the same cannot be said of their minds. For once a man is tempered..." He shook his head and started again. "Once mainfested initially in the physical realm a primal must consume aether in order to continue their presence here. The stronger they become the more aether they require. Aether is in everything, yes, all around and in us as well. But a primal needs more to sustain it, and concentrated aether in crystals is often needed, hence the attacks on crystal shipments." Lysander reached out to take his hand and squeeze it, which bolstered the other man's resolve a little. "A primal also requires a beacon of sorts to come together, 'aetheric coalescence' as Sharlayan scholars have dubbed it, and this is achieved through prayer and cries for help from those who worship that primal. The more there are and the more devout their faith the more powerful that the primal can become."

Lysander's mouth went dry as he began to see where this was going. "And the more followers that a primal has..."

"Correct. Once called to our plane a it gains strength from the worship of its followers, but it is seldom enough to properly sustain them, and they need more than can be freely given. So they create followers themselves."

"...Tempering..."

Thancred nodded silently, and Lysander remembered the wave of power that he had felt but had no effect, and brought it up, earning another nod. "But you were unaffected because you have the Echo. We don't know why, but it protects you from the power of being tempered and their influence."

"No... Oh gods, no, my squad, all of them..." He swayed on his feet and gripped Thancred's shoulders, horror in his own eyes. "I... I promised that I would keep them safe, that I would bring them home. Please..." He choked on the word as Thancred looked away. "Love, _please_ tell me that they can be saved. ...Please..."

"...When someone is tempered it is for life. Their very existence lends strength to the primal whom they cannot choose but worship. All that we can do is offer them the mercy of a quick, painless death. I'm sorry, so very sorry. It isn't your fault. The blame lies with me for not telling everything that you would need to know. Their deaths are my responsibility, not yours."

"...No... N- No! It's-! They can't- I- I promised them, I-" His voice cracked as his knees gave out, dropping to the ground again. "I could have broken them free and told them to run, I could have... I _should_ have..." He put his face in his hands, feeling the hot sting of tears burn his eyes, then felt Thancred kneel to hug him. "I killed them, love, they trusted me with their lives and I let them down. I don't deserve this rank, and I don't deserve to be a Scion. I'm sorry... I'm s-..." He choked again as tears left trails in the dust on his face, the shame in him burning hotter than the fire he had effortlessly wielded earlier.

"You did everything that you could with everything that you knew," Thancred whispered, "and it is a risk that everyone who came here was willing to take. Think of the lives that you did save, and the lives that are now safe from ever being taken."

They remained there for a few more minutes for Lysander to compose himself, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve and taking another deep, focusing breath, then got to his feet and pulled Thancred up with him. "...Let's meet up with everyone else. I need to debrief the Flames with everything that happened."

Thancred kissed him softly, caressing the shell of his ear, giving him a look of empathy, and Lysander squeezed his hand one last time as they made their way to the rest of the Flames, looking for the captain in charge of the company of soldiers that were now conducting clean-up and prisoner operations now that the fighting was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.
> 
> And if you want even more intersting (and often better!) stuff, and enjoy both reading and writing fanfiction, come join us over at [Emet Selch's Wholesomely Debauched & Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic). We're mostly focused on FFXIV but we have writers and readers from many fandoms and are there to not only read and write some great stuff, but hype each other up to do so, because darn it, fanfiction just doesn't get the love that it deserves! And be sure to leave kudos and comments for the people you read, too! Writers need that validation to keep making delicious, free content, all they ask to be paid in is your adoration. ;)//


	11. Lighting the Flame of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Okay, wow. Oof. Really sorry about the radio silence, but I threw myself into Estimeric Week pretty hard (and had fun, I'm pleased with the results!), and then I've had loads of overtime at work, so I'm just dumb as hell when I get home. Finally cobbled this together, and I was hoping to have MORE, but... I'll have meatier and more action-y chapters coming up, I promise!! This should get interesting soon, I hope... @_@//

The captain in charge had mostly finished giving initial orders and was now overseeing operations, looking around and taking notes as she put a hand to her ear now and then, sending and receiving information via linkpearl. She saw Lysander and Thancred approach, and huffed a soft sigh of relief, looking down at her notes to write something, then back up at them. It was a bit of a way to look up, as she was short even for a Lalafell, but she radiated an air of command that left nobody uncertain of who was in charge. “Masters Morgensonne and Waters, well done, we have not only recovered all of the missing people but defeated Ifrit, and we have you both to thank for it. You have done a great service to not only the Flames but to the people of Thanalan.”

Words sticking in his throat, Lysander shook his head. “Even if… It’s still my fault, I wasn’t fast enough, I wasn’t paying attention…”

“That ambush? Don’t be daft, none of us saw that coming, though we likely should have. You spotted it and still got off a warning, and because of that the mission was still a success. There is going to be a hell of an investigation into just how and why that was allowed to happen, but at least the rot has been uncovered and we can now excise it.”

“No...it’s… My squad, I…”

She now realized what he meant and sighed again, her expression softening for a moment. “That’s the risk they knew to expect when they volunteered, and even despite my warning of it they still chose to follow you. They had heard the stories and knew that you were a man that they wanted to follow into battle.”

He shook his head and clenched his fists, fighting tears of self-loathing. “But they never got that battle, their minds were taken and they-”

“ _Where’s your backbone, soldier?"_ Though Lysander did not have the same training that his father had, he had still grown up with his firm but kind discipline shaped from it, and the captain had the sort of presence that instilled obedience. He jumped and snapped to “attention” without thinking about it, and before he _could_ actually think about it he relaxed into “at ease” at the command to do so. “Right. I just remembered that I had not taken your account of events. After you sent the flare and we lost commo with you what happened?”

Her tone was professional and clipped, expecting quick but thorough answers, and once again, Lysander reacted instinctively. “I was knocked out, and when I came to I was here. Well, there.” He gestured toward the makeshift arena then resumed his stance. “I was tied up, and I tried to assess the situation, but there was nothing that I could do at the moment. The squad and Ungust were there as well, and as I tried to burn through my ropes the high priest and a few others grabbed myself, the sergeant, and Ungust. We were dragged to the...arena? Altar? I…” He shrugged and shook his head. “Whatever it was, they had enough of everything they needed to start, and they began the summoning. Just as I got free they finished, and Ifrit did... _something._ That tempering thing, he got Unugst and the sergeant immediately but it didn’t affect me.”

Humming thoughtfully in her throat, she wrote in a neat shorthand as he spoke, and glanced up at him again. “That ‘echo’ power I heard about, bloody useful. I arrived at the end of it all, I saw him die, and I assume that that was your doing.”

“Correct, I did… I’m not sure, I need to think about it later, but he’s gone, I won. But…” His shoulders slumped as tears stung his eyes again. “I failed my squad, I’m sorry, I didn’t get them out and they’re lost now and-” He felt himself winding up and getting caught in a spiral, the pain and anger and embarrassment building up, and she saw it.

“How long did it take?” she asked, a bit more harshly than her earlier questions had been.

“What-”

“ _The timing,_ ” she said, using her Commander voice again, “from when you woke up to the time of the summoning, how long?”

“I… It was-” Blinking, he realized that it hadn’t been that long. “Only a couple of minutes, not even five, I think, I woke up barely in time.”

“And your squad, were they also bound with ropes like yourself?”

“They-” Once more he spun back through his memories, and almost could not remember, it had all happened so fast. “No, manacles and chains, only the three of us had been secured with rope, probably after the ambush had gone off, and because I was out and they were subdued by those they had been assisting.”

“Mm, I see, and you had the key for those restraints?”

This was a strange question, and he had to think about it twice to make sure he had heard her correctly. “No, the sergeant had control of the keys and restraints.”

“And can you burn through metal?”

Yet again, he was confused, and had no idea where she was going with this. “No, I'm skilled with the use of fire, and it was more than enough for ropes, but I can’t cut through or score metal.”

“Then how did you plan to free your squadmates while still bound yourself and being dragged off to be sacrificed to a primal?”

This blunt, honest, and brutal question cut him right to the core, and he staggered up on hearing it. It was something that had been in the back of his mind but he had pushed away, convinced that he should have, _could_ have been able to do something, but… Having it all stripped away and laid bare like that…

“I… I couldn’t. There wasn’t time or the resources to free them. And I didn’t know the risk of them being turned like that, and... I… I’m sorry, it’s-”

“Say it’s your fault again, boy, and I’ll have you doing laps around Drybone until I’m tired,” she snapped, then smiled to take the edge off when he gave her a look of confused shock. “Listen…” Sighing, she put her notes in her pocket and took off her hat, a subtle signal that she was no longer talking as his commanding officer, but as an equal. “You feel guilty for what happened to them. I understand, and I do, too. I have to go to their families and let them know that their sons and daughters died in my service and-” Seeing him prepare to apologize for that duty falling on her she held up a hand. “And it’s something that comes with the rank. _Responsibility._ You say you didn’t know the risks of tempering before, so when you found out, what did you do?”

“What?”

“Don’t think about it, just tell me, what was your first instinct upon learning of tempering and what happens to its victims?”

He was silent for a moment as he clenched a fist. “...I wanted to apologize to them, and to their families, for not being able to save them. I had promised to keep them safe and I had failed.”

“And when you were dragged in front of _a fucking god_ , what did you do?”

“I… I fought. I couldn’t run, I didn’t want to. I had to fight and win because everyone was depending on me. I was the only one who could do it. And worst case… I could buy everyone time to escape. If I couldn’t win I at least needed to hold on long enough for my squad and all of the people who had been taken to get to safety.”

With a soft, huffed laugh, she put her hat back on and pulled out her notes again. “You have a bright future ahead of you, _lieutenant,_ and I look forward to seeing your progress.”

“But… I…”

“You were given the shit-covered, short end of the stick and you still managed to pull out a victory,” she replied, writing down their previous conversation, “and I can assure you that you will impress no small number of people once I can finish and send off my report. And speaking of reports, I have all I need from you, Master Waters, my subordinates have already filled me in on your actions, and your quick thinking and skilled tracking has saved many lives today. Is there anything you would like to add before I complete this and send it off?”

She saw Thancred’s expression and groaned, puffing out her cheeks and jabbing a finger at him. “Thal’s Balls!! Not you too! What could _you_ have done when you weren’t even here?!”

“It is my fault for not preparing him with all of the knowledge that he would need, I was unaware that he did not know of tempering and-”

Both men recoiled in terror when she growled at them and pulled up a thaumaturge’s stave and planted the end in the dirt at her feet. “I will set you both on fire the way Ifrit was about to.”

“I’m immune to magical fire,” Lysander responded without thinking, then laughed weakly when both she and Thancred glared daggers at him.

“While you may be _I_ most certainly am not,” he huffed, “and I thank you to not further antagonize the good captain.”

“You’re on my shit list too, boy,” she said, and Thancred’s expression changed to one of insulted shock, which made her smirk as she put away her weapon. “There, that’s better. Look, you both can blame yourselves all day, but at the end of it, _what will it accomplish_? So you’re throwing yourselves on your swords and flogging yourselves bloody, but will it bring those people back? _No_ , it won’t. So do you know what you _can_ do?” She waited for them to consider their own answers before she continued. “You can learn from it. We all make mistakes. What matters is how we deal with them.”

Once more Lysander and Thancred shared a glance, and a conversation within it. Sighing, Lysander found his resolve again, at least for a few more minutes. “Then is there anything we can do right now?”

“You both have done all that you can and I’m not asking anything further,” the captain replied, “we’ll clean up here and finish processing the scene and people. You’re free to return to Drybone to finish up any business you have there, and head on back to report to your chain of command. The Flame General will be in contact once he’s had the chance to be briefed on everything. This...goes deep, and this will start an investigation that’s going to dig up a lot of nasty stuff. But what you two have started will save many more lives than the ones you have today. The Scions have my gratitude and that of the Flames. I’m glad to have you a part of us, Lysander, you’ll do us proud.” She grinned at Thancred and put her fists on her hips. “What about you? Think we can pin some stripes on your collar someday?”

Thancred laughed and held up his hands in mock defense. “Nay, good captain, I am flattered and honored, but I’m a freelancer and accustomed to working alone. I work in the shadows where the light can’t go.”

Shrugging, she smiled, amused at his reply. “It takes all sorts, and aye, I know better than to try to convince one of Jacke’s boys to put on a uniform. At least some of us respect the need for sneaky whoresons like you two!” Their matched looks of surprise got another laugh, and she adjusted her hat. “I’m off to rendezvous with the rest of my team, and I’ll be sending up my report to headquarters within the hour. If you think of anything else to add that’s your timeframe. Dismissed, lieutenant.”

Lysander saluted without thinking about it, and waited until she had returned it and turned to leave before he playfully shoved Thancred, having seen him not bother to hide an ear-connecting smirk. “Oh push, off, luv, maybe I’m developing good habits.”

“The gods know that the both of us have so very few between us,” Thancred agreed, then sighed when he saw Lysander’s smile start to slip. “Let’s get back to town, then, we’ll collect our gear and ourselves and head back. Are you safe to teleport? I don’t know how much that fight took out of you.”

“I… I’m fine to head back, yeah, I need to…” He bit his lip and clenched his fist, and nodded when Thancred squeezed his hand. “I can feel the aetheryte fine, meet you back there in a moment.” Reaching out with his mind, the crystal glowed with aetheric life, and he extended himself to it, connecting and then feeling the strange sensation of being unmade to be remade elsewhere. Without waiting for Thancred, he strode back to the inn and their room quickly. It wasn’t him being rude, rather, he was holding onto his composure by threads and needed to get someplace safe as soon as he could. Unlocking and opening the door, he heard Thancred’s soft stride down the hall, and he steeled himself a few seconds longer. Just a bit longer… The door closed and locked, and Thancred put a gentle hand in the small of his back.

His mask cracked and all that he had held back crashed down on him, his legs no longer supporting him and a choked sob shaking his frame. Thancred caught him just in time and staggered under the other man’s weight, but managed to keep them both standing, holding him tightly as Lysander cried into his shoulder. “...I’m...the same, love, their families... They’re the same as me. Father, when he…”

It took Thancred a second to follow the line of thought, but once he picked up the thread his stomach dropped out, and he gently tugged Lysander over to the bed, pulling them both onto it and lying on his side to keep holding him as close as possible. “I...have no words. I’m sorry. I know that losing your father like that was devastating, and that other families will have to bear similar news, this must be tearing you apart. But…” He sighed and knotted the fingers of one hand into his friend’s hair and the other into his back, hugging him fiercely. “But those families won’t be left the way you were. We can make sure of that. That those who have fallen will be remembered as heroes and their families not be devastated from their loss.”

Lysander didn’t reply, and Thancred wasn’t expecting one. They lay there together for several minutes as the dancer let his emotions drain, and only when he had spent all of his tears and was taking deep, shuddering breaths, did Thancred speak again. “Do you want to stay here a while longer, or…?”

“No. I… We need to report back. And… And I need to report to the general myself.” Thancred had an idea of what he wanted to say and decided to not push the issue further. “Just...give me a few minutes, I… I need to clean myself up before we go.”

With a nod, Thancred held onto his partner a little longer, until Lysander finally pulled away to get up and wash up. He scoured the room to make sure that they hadn’t left anything and picked up his bag, shifting it into place as Lysander returned. Saying nothing, he waited for the other man to finish collecting himself and take a deep breath, then meet his eyes, looking haggard but determined. Thancred offered a hand, and Lysander took it, accepting the squeeze of support, and picked up his own bag. They remained silent as they left the room, speaking only to the innkeeper to complete the vacating of their rooms, and stood in front of the aetheryte for a moment.

“...I’ll be going to Ul’dah. I won’t be long, I’ll go to Horizon right after. You don’t need to wait for me,” Lysander said, taking Thancred’s hand again.

“Are you certain? I don’t mind waiting.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

Setting his jaw firmly, Thancred looked around, then stepped into the shadows. Confused, Lysander did the same, wondering what needed to be said or done that couldn’t be done in plain sight. He gasped softly when Thancred took his face in both hands, kissing him deeply and firmly, and very nearly pulled them both out of their stealth. “You are _not_ a burden,” he whispered, “you never have been. Stop that. And it was not your fault. Please, I…” He wasn’t sure how to follow that, and gave up when Lysander hugged him again.

“...But it _is_ my responsibility, and I must bear that weight, and it is mine to do so alone,” he replied, “I… I won’t be long.”

“I’ll wait as long as I must.” Smiling at Thancred’s determination, Lysander kissed his cheek and reached out to the aetheryte, placing his palm on it and seeking the city to the west. There, gleaming bright in his mind’s eye, and radiating a familiar warmth. But it wasn’t his home anymore, just a place that he knew well. And he knew the feeling of the stone under his feet and the surprising coolness of the air in the chamber where its aetheryte hummed with life when he reassembled himself. Taking a deep breath once more, he squared his shoulders and adjusted his pack, then made his way to the main road and to the Hall of Flames.

He took the same path as the other day, and was given clearance to go where he needed to, stopping in front of the door to Raubahn’s office to mentally ready himself once more. He was granted entry and he set down his bag as the Flame General looked up, grinning at his arrival, and standing up, a piece of paper in his hand. “Welcome back, lieutenant, I have just finished going over the preliminary reports of your work in Drybone.”

Lysander’s stomach turned, and he clenched a fist at his side before reaching up to remove his rank. “Then you already know what happened.” He strode forward, almost unable to meet the other man’s confused look. “I failed your soldiers, sir, I don’t deserve this rank, or your trust. I’m sorry, sir, I… It’s my fault.” He held out the rank in an open hand, waiting for it to be taken, and was surprised to see Raubahn give him a studying, thoughtful look.

“Lieut- ...Lysander. Sit.” He gestured to a chair and sat down in his again, and the midlander did so without thinking about it. “I have not read everything, but I did get the initial reports, and had just finished talking with Captain Jajaki. She had nothing but glowing words for you and Master Waters, despite of, or perhaps because of, the way you both feel that you conducted yourselves during that operation.” He reached over to put down the piece of paper he had been holding. “The loss of a soldier weighs heavily on all of our hearts, and knowing that they were unable to raise arms to fight back is a death that many of us fear more than the death itself. The captain has already informed me that she will take care of notifying their families. It’s not the first time she has had to do so, and it is for the best that a more seasoned officer handles such a delicate matter.” Holding up a hand when he saw Lysander open his mouth to protest, he continued.

“It’s been years but I still remember receiving the news that your father had died in battle, and I assume that that must be on your mind right now.” He nodded when he saw Lysander’s reaction. “I thought so. You lost a loved one, and now you’re a leader, in charge of people whose families will soon be experiencing the loss that you suffered. It never gets easier, and I am glad for that, for it means that I never am ready to throw away a life. But your coming here right afterward tells me one thing.”

Lysander couldn’t speak for a moment, and he bit his lip. “What’s that, sir?”

The general smiled and put a hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “That you are exactly the sort of person that I would trust to follow into battle.”

“...But…”

“You didn’t hesitate to take responsibility for them when you learned what happened, and you came here as soon as you could, to the _leader of the military_ , to offer your apologies and resignation.” He laughed and sat back in his chair, looking pleased somehow. “You aren’t running away from the responsibility, either, I can see that look in your eyes. You are a man of honor and integrity, and I remember you from Cartenau. You gather people to you without even trying, and you inspire them to greatness. No. I will not accept your resignation.” He reached over again, this time to close his hand over Lysander’s, curling his fingers around the pin in his palm. “And someday I want to put a _first_ lieutenant’s rank on you.”

Laughing again when he saw the look of relief and hope on Lysander’s face, he folded his arms on his desk and rested his weight on them. “And I remember you saying something about ‘killing a god’ back at the banquet. Looks like you got that chance and did a damn fine job of it. Keep it up.”

Feeling relieved and almost a little dizzy, Lysander saluted, then winced not only at the fact he did it while sitting (one only did so when standing!), but that the sharp point of the pin had dug into his hand. He huffed a laugh at himself and affixed it where it had been, then stood up, rendering a proper salute. “Then I’ll take my leave to report in with the Scions.”

Raubahn laughed and stood, returning the salute. “Congratulations on a successful first mission, _lieutenant_ , dismissed.”

Lysander didn’t remember the walk back to the aetheryte, or the fact that he had picked up his bag before he had left, he just found himself at the crystal with his hand on it, having been lost inside of his own mind the entire time. He remained there a few seconds longer, then allowed himself a small smile and connected to the aetheryte in Horizon, traveling in the blink of thought and looking around for Thancred when he arrived. The rogue was apparently watching for him, from the way his posture shifted to something more relaxed and relieved when he appeared.

“Hey, luv, sorry that took a bit,” Lysander said, smiling lopsidedly, “ready to head back?”

Thancred examined him in a glance, noticed the pin still on his collar, but in a slightly different place, and huffed a chuckle. “He wouldn’t let you quit? Heh, I guess he sees the same thing in you that we do.”

“Same… What?”

Taking his wrist and pulling him along, Thancred got them both aboard the cart that he had arranged and got comfortable as he could on the hard bench, shifting again when the cart lurched as it got on its way. “Heh, you’re handsome but dense sometimes. Putting aside the Echo, you’re a good man, and you always do the right thing, or at least, you _try_ to, even when nobody’s looking. Forget trying to hide it or deflect blame or something, you went to talk to the swiving _Flame General_ like you were popping in to the Sands for tea.”

This got a full laugh out of Lysander. “He...said the same thing, more or less. But…” He sighed and leaned back, staring at the top of the cart’s roof. “But why? What’s so special about me? I’m just...me. Okay, I’m kinda pretty and I’ve got a decent voice and I’m entertaining and all. And I’m a good fuck, but so what? Why do people like me?”

Thancred gave him a confused look, without words for once. “Why do you hate yourself?”

“What? No, I don’t hate myself, I…” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I just feel...whatever. I’m nothing important, I just don’t know why people are drawn to me.”

He hummed a note of curiosity when Thancred got up to sit next to him, his head on the dancer’s shoulder and arm around his waist. “...You’re more than that, and you _know_ that. What did I just say?” Lysander didn’t reply, only putting an arm around his partner’s shoulders. “You’re kind. You’re honest. You protect others at the cost of your own safety. You just…” He sighed and prodded Lysander in the side where he knew the man was most ticklish. “You’re doing this just to fish for compliments!”

Lysander yelped and almost elbowed his companion. “Oy! I’m not! I’m just… I just want to make people happy, to protect those who can’t fight back, to see the world and learn about everyone and everything. I mean, I guess it makes me a little interesting, but it’s not _me_ that’s interesting, it’s the stories and- _OH FUCK STOP AHHHHHHH!"_  
  
Having become annoyed with this line of dialogue, Thancred had tightened his grip around Lysander’s waist to hold him as close as possible while he tickled with his other hand. “I can do this the entire ride, you know!”

“Ah! Stooooop! Wild Rose, _WILD ROSE!!_ ” He slid bonelessly off the bench to land somewhat upside-down on the floor of the cart, giggling helplessly, and prodding Thancred in the face with the toe of his boot, which was shoved aside with a grin.

“Turnabout is fair play,” Thancred snickered, “that’s for last trip.”

“You are awful and I still love you for it.” Lysander accepted a hand to get back on the bench, and nearly pulled Thancred into his own lap to hug him as close as he could. “...I just want people to be happy and safe. And I’ve got the skill and talent and now the power to do that.” He hugged Thancred even tighter, his voice just a whisper. “I don’t want people to end up like us. But today, I… I’ve got to do better. I’ve got to be stronger.”

Thancred didn’t answer, but his fierce hold in return said all that he wanted to, and they rode the rest of the way to the Waking Sands in silence. At their arrival, they retrieved their bags, and Thancred paused to sigh and collect himself. When he noticed Lysander’s questioning look, he fell into step next to him, wearing a smile, but Lysander saw how it didn’t quite touch his eyes. “The Antecedent will be proud beyond all reckoning when she hears of your deeds. I trust you shan't object to my bearing the tidings to her. That way I can claim to have contributed something to this mission,” he said, putting on a jovial air and finding a bounce in his walk.

“Hey, you did a _lot_ ,” Lysander replied, cuffing the other man’s shoulder playfully.

“That is true, but you are the one who felled a god, and therefore have earned yourself a rest. Go on, take some time to relax, have a cup of tea. We can discuss details in more detail later tonight, and I imagine that Urianger will pin you down anyroad and talk you half to death before you get three steps inside the door.”

Noticing the way that he had used Minfilia’s title and not her name made Lysander set his jaw in protest, but he said nothing, knowing that Thancred needed to get things off of his chest to her, and he wanted the privacy to do so. He gave his companion’s hand a squeeze and a peck on his cheek, and upon entering the Sands he took the turn to the rooms while Thancred went on ahead to the Solar. He opened the door to his room, set down his pack, then sighed, closed the door, and ducked into the shadows. It wasn’t spying, technically, he just… He just knew the man, and how he thought and reacted, and after this mission… The door to the Solar was open a crack, and he sidled up to it, listening and keeping an eye out for anyone approaching.

“...My failure nearly cost Lysander his life. I wasn't there when the Amalj'aa took him prisoner… And I wasn't there when they served him to Ifrit…” Lysander felt a twinge of sadness at the sound of self-reproach in Thancred’s voice, but remained where he was for the moment, and smiled a little when he heard the man chuckle darkly. “Yet, by some miracle, he survived. His skill, training, and the Echo saved his life and that of many others. But that does not excuse the fact that he should never have had to face such dangers alone. I failed him utterly. Just as I'm failing you all…”

Growling to himself, Lysander shoved open the door as Minfilia sighed and rebuked him softly. “What's done is done, Thancred. You can ill blame yourself for every-”

They both jumped in surprise as Lysander stormed in. “Gods- _damn_ it, Thancred, it isn’t your bloody fault! I had the same training you did and I still got nicked! I didn’t bloody notice a thing until I was arse-first in that trap! And if you had been with me _you would be fucking dead right now!_ I only lived because I’ve got the Echo and I’m just stupidly clever enough to pull something brilliant elbow-deep from my arse when things are just dire enough. Nobody had any idea it was a dirty Flame what did it all until it was all over. Why are you so hells-bent on punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault?!”

He blinked in surprise when Thancred grabbed his collar with both hands, looking furious. “Because I can’t lose you again!” His knuckles were white with strain and, his jaw was set just as tense, tears almost in his eyes. Shaking Lysander once, his voice dropped in tone. “I… We already lost once you, someone precious and amazing, and… And we’ve not even had you back for a week only to nearly have you torn from us again.” He shook his head, his grip still firm. “...I couldn’t save you five years ago and I couldn’t save you today. I…”

His voice cracked, and his hold on Lysander’s shirt loosened as his shoulders sagged, resting his forehead on the other man’s chest. With gentle fingers Lysander stroked his cheek, brushing hair out of his face. “But you have many times before. I’m still here because of you, and it’s also thanks to you that I remembered myself and all of this. All of you. So do you know what you can best do to help?” When Thancred looked up at him but didn’t answer, the dancer smiled and cupped the rogue’s face in his hands. “Have faith in me. I’m not one of the Twelve, but knowing that you’re thinking of me and sharing your strength will always keep me going. We can do this together, okay?”

Thancred let go so he could hug him, and Lysander returned it, noticing Minfilia’s smile out of the corner of his eye. Apparently Thancred had as well, as he had laughed softly at himself before pulling away, adjusting his clothes. Lysander did the same and gave him a final squeeze on the shoulder before turning his attention to Minfilia.

“If you have composed yourselves I would hear of your heroic exploits,” she teased, and both men smirked at the gentle ribbing.

Sitting down heavily, Thancred sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “As we suspected, the Amalj'aa undertook both the robbery and the abductions with the aim of summoning their primal.” They took turns telling the combined story, and she nodded as she listened, now and then checking against her own notes, likely from a recent linkpearl conversation. When they finished it was her turn to sigh, chin resting on folded hands as she re-read the documents before her.

“This tale is not limited to Ul'dah. Similar incidents have been rife in both Limsa Lominsa and Gridania of late.”

“Aye,” Thancred agreed, “the recent incidents all share a common trait: meticulous planning. Such elaborate designs are a new development, and one which fills me with an unshakable sense of foreboding.”

With a twist to her lips, Minfilia prodded one of the reports. “While I share your concern, my presiding feeling is one of relief at your safe return. This was a task more perilous than we had anticipated.” She remembered something else as she nudged aside another page. “Further, the Immortal Flames assured me that they will deal with the aftermath, so you need not concern yourself with that. We may rest easy for a time.” She gave Lysander a smile and a wink. “I suggest you take full advantage of the respite, but you may be sure it won't last long. Once the people learn the identity of the hero who felled Ifrit, I fear you will have nary a moment to yourself!”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I hadn’t considered that. It was just...something I had to do, so I got it done. Now that I’m here and thinking about it afterward…” He leaned forward to rest his weight on his elbows on his knees. “That...was a little impressive, wasn’t it?”

“A- A _little_ impressive?” snickered Thancred, “previously it would take full companies of soldiers to fell a primal, and the casualty count would be staggering. You fought a primal alone and won!”

Chuckling weakly, Lysander shrugged, blushing a little at the compliment. “Well, he _had_ just been summoned, and didn’t have many followers and all going on, so really-”

Lysander paused when Thancred groaned with a choking laugh, putting his face in his hands as he leaned back in his chair. “Oh my _gods_. You…” He laughed again and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “You and Urianger. What will it take for you two to actually take credit for what you do?”

“Well- Look!” The dancer pouted playfully and folded his arms across his chest. “I just don’t like making a big deal of things for myself. I’m happy to boost others but it feels weird doing things just for me.”

Minfilia muffled a demure laugh of her own and remembered something else. “Speaking of helping others, the remembrance services are to take place the day after tomorrow. I imagine that you will wish to be present for the one in Ul’dah, correct?”

“Oh? Oh, that’s right, wow, they moved quickly on that, but… It will be five years to the day, won’t it? Makes sense they’d want to have it then. Hmm…” This made him think of something, and he tapped a finger atop his knee as he considered it. “You said similar incidents to what we just stopped are happening out in Limsa and Gridania, too. I can assume that the others are already investigating?”

Thancred and Minfilia shared a quick smile before she answered. “Correct, Yda and Papalymo monitor Gridania, and Y’shtola is our Limsan agent. I will be sending them the results of your mission so that they may better focus their efforts. Twelve willing, it is only the Flames that had an insider feeding information and supplies, but I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that all three Grand Companies have infiltrators, either.”

“So what I’m hearing is there’s a good chance I’ll be heading out to both places at some point, just in case?”

Her smile slipped as she sighed and folded her hands in front of her. “That is correct. While I hardly wish to treat you as a weapon we simply point at a problem to solve, you have already proven to be highly effective in every area in which we need someone skilled, particularly that of defeating primals, should another summoning occur.”

Shrugging and smiling, Lysander reclined in his chair. “If I’m useful then I’m happy to be pointed at those problems. Though not until tomorrow at least, I need sleep after today. ...Okay, after the remembrance service, too, I want to be there for that.”

“And Urianger is definitely going to want to hear about this,” Thancred reminded, “I’m pretty sure the only reason he isn’t drowning you in questions is he doesn’t know we’re back yet.”

“I’ll go change that when we’re done here, ‘cause I have questions, too. Mm, and you might find it interesting as well.” When prompted to continue, Lysander pulled out the crystal and tossed it to his companion. “Found that just after I killed Ifrit, and while the whole thing is a bit of a blur I definitely don’t remember anything just lying around. That and it feels...empowered.”

Thancred gave it a cursory inspection and tossed it back. “That it does. Energized crystals always have a particular resonance, but that one seems to pulse with its own life. Well, I had nothing planned for the rest of the evening anyroad, spending it discussing primals with you two should be sufficiently entertaining.”

Minfilia shifted some of the papers around to find something in particular. “Then you are free to do so. I have all that I need, and I can reach out to the other Scions shortly. Once Urianger has had the opportunity to glean all that he can from your battle I will pass that knowledge on as well. Anything that you can remember will be invaluable.”

Both men stood, and Lysander pocketed the crystal again. “I’ll see if I can think of anything else that could be useful, but I think I’ve said all that I can,” he remarked, “in the meantime, I’ll see if I can get some tea started, because once Urianger and I get talking we’ll need it.”

They left and went down the hall, but Thancred gave Lysander’s hand another squeeze. “Go on and get started, I’ll get more than just tea ready, all we’ve had today was that meal that the sergeant kindly provided for us, and after that fight I know you’re going to be ravenous in a few hours.”

Considering this as he checked his aether, Lysander grimaced and nodded. “Good eye, I had forgotten for a moment, and yeah, I used a lot of power today, so I’ll need something decent tonight.” He made the turn to the common room while Thancred headed off to the kitchen, and found the familiar robed figure in his usual chair, reading from a book and making notes in a smaller one of his own. “Hey, luv, got a few minutes?” he asked, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops as he leaned against the side of Urianger’s chair.

The Elezen looked up and smiled, then closed both books. “For thee, I would wind back time should thou ask for it. Thy smile ‘tis one of satisfaction, thy mission was successful?”

“More than successful,” Lysander grinned, dropping into a chair, “how would you like to know more about Ifrit?” He pulled the crystal from his pocket and tossed it to Urianger, who juggled it for a couple of seconds before catching it in both hands, as he lacked the manual dexterity that Thancred had when doing the same thing. “So I found that after I killed him.”

The scholar stared at the item in his hands for several seconds, amazed at the implications of the item, then looked up at the dancer. “Pray speak at length and leave nothing out, for I would hear all that thou has to say before I question thee further.”

Grinning, Lysander began his story just before the ritual, assuming that Urianger was already aware of the kidnappings and the crystals, and their intended use. Just as he got to the part where he had freed himself Thancred arrived with tea and something to eat, and Lysander paused long enough to pour a cup and add milk to it, and grabbed a slice of fruit. “You’re amazing, thanks. Right, so where was I… Oh, so I had _just_ got free, and barely in time, because that’s when the ritual finished and it just… You know what it looks like when you drop ink in water? It was like that, but in reverse.”

Thancred poured tea for Urianger and himself before taking a seat, listening to the story, as he had only caught the short version that had been given to the Flame Captain. Both of them listened with rapt fascination, as not only was it an amazing story, Lysander was a gifted storyteller, managing to keep it factual but make it interesting. When he finished he gulped the rest of his drink and poured another, and Urianger pondered his words while turning the crystal over in his hands. He hummed thoughtfully to himself and put on the strange aether-seeing device, adjusting the dials on the side as he examined it, and Thancred did the same as he moved over to look over the scholar’s shoulder.

Waiting patiently, Lysander reached for a slice of buttered bread and ate half of it in one bite while the two Sharlayans examined the crystal from several angles and apparently with several settings. Eventually, Urianger looked up at Lysander, held up the crystal to have both of them in view at the same time, and both he and Thancred made a noise of interest. Lysander made one of his own in reply, and took a gulp of tea to wash down the bread.

“Most curious, Lysander, this appears to be crystallized aether, infused with the essence of Ifrit himself. Though one cannot use it to summon, it appears to be something that one could use as a focus Further, I sense traces of thine own aether within, leading me to surmise that perhaps this could be useful in enhancing thy magical abilities.”

Lysander got up to take it back, thought about this, and then licked it. Urianger gave him a very confused look, once more an impressive feat under both goggles and device, and Thancred burst out laughing before taking off his own device. “What- What are you _doing_?”

Shrugging, Lysander examined it further himself, prodding it with his own aether, and found that indeed, it did resonate gently with his own power, but also that of the defeated primal. “Eh, mostly because it felt like it would be funny. Also, I’ve got a bit of an oral fixation, bad habit. Kinda why I keep those rolanberry sticks handy, and why I tend to be a bit bitey when we-” He cut himself off when Thancred blushed, glancing over at Urianger, who thankfully seemed not to have inferred where that line was going, as he was removing the aetheric device as well. “Anyroad, yeah, I sensed this thing more than I saw it after the fight, and I feel like I’ll be able to, well, do something with it. Hmm.” He pulled out the white crystal on the leather cord and held them together, and while there wasn’t exactly a visible pulse, he could feel how the Ifrit-crystal seemed to be in tune with himself. “I… I wonder if I’ll be able to…”

This got Urianger’s attention, and he sat up straighter. “Thou art not serious, are thee? To attempt to control the power of-”

“Oh, no, not quite, like… I feel like it’s an artifact of the Echo or something, I was using my aether the entire time and I’ve got a crazy vivid memory of the whole fight. Like… Oh, I wonder if I can find a way to share that memory with someone? I mean, I can already see memories from other people, so maybe I can share mine with others someday? But that’s something else, this… It feels like it’s got a fragment of a memory of his abilities and power. Like maybe I can use that myself if I use this as a focus?” Shrugging, he bounced it on his palm a couple of times before tucking it away. “I’ll mess with that after I’ve had some sleep, I’m feeling really low on power.” He laughed and ran his hands through his hair, looking dazed. “It’s still hard to wrap my mind around, hours later. I fought a primal. And I won.”

Shaking his head, he exhaled deeply and sagged, curling up comfortably in the plush chair, suddenly feeling tired. “Mm, dang, I think all of the excitement just caught up with me, I’m feeling wiped all of a sudden. Just...give me a minute and I’ll be up to...go do...things…” Thancred and Urianger shared a quick glance and nodded to each other, the Hyur collecting up all of the dishes and stacking them onto the tray, and Urianger got up to move over and pick Lysander up, who made a confused noise before wrapping his arms around the other man’s neck. “Gah! I’m okay! I…mmph, just feeling drained all of a sudden.”

“Then let us find thee a meal and then a bed. Thou art exhausted and I would limit thine exertions where I can.”

Lysander didn’t argue with this, allowing himself to be transported to the kitchen table, where he was set on his feet and nearly collapsed into a chair. Tataru was stirring something at the stove and had a moment of concern before he smiled and waved at her, reassuring her that he was just hungry and tired. A bowl of the spiced lentils from the other day and some hot flatbread had just been warmed, so his timing was excellent, and he went through two bowls and three pieces of flatbread before he stopped, trying not to overeat. He was much more tired and drained of aether than he had realized, as the moment he stood up he staggered and grabbed for both the chair and table for support. Once more Urianger swept him up, and he was sleepy enough that he didn’t argue at all, only trying to stay awake until they got to his room.

Opening the door to his room, Thancred picked up Lysander’s bag and moved it next to the wardrobe so Urianger wouldn’t trip, and Lysander chuckled weakly, as Urianger set him down to sit on the bed, earning a curious query from both men. “Heh, just like the other day, ‘s my turn…” he mumbled, “but...I’d like to get out of these clothes if I can. Y’don’t have to help, I…” Interrupting himself with a yawn, he fumbled with one of his boots, as while the thighboot style was quite fetching, it was sometimes bothersome, especially now when he was barely functional. Urianger removed Lysander’s cap and hung it on the hook inside the wardrobe while Thancred helped with the boots, then squeezed the dancer’s shoulder.

“I shall ruminate upon thy discoveries and converse with thee anon. Rest, Warrior of Light, thy days as a hero have only begun.”

“What- Oy, none of that- Thanks, luv,” Lysander protested, pausing to offer gratitude for Thancred’s help with his boots, “I’m not a hero- Okay, _okay_ , fighting Ifrit was heroic, fine, but… This ‘Warrior of Light’ thing…” He sighed and unlaced both shirt and waistcoat, pulling both off over his head. “I didn’t do anything. I was just there, and I got flung through time and space. I was...useless…” Standing to undo his trousers, he did so too quickly and collapsed against Thancred, who caught him, having expected that.

Urianger folded his hands inside of his sleeves and considered how best to answer this. “I shall not disparage thine own opinions. However, ‘twas the legend of the Hero that hast given courage to many in recent years, _because_ thou wert there. Further, thine actions before the Calamity, when thou rallied the three cities to action and cooperation, inspires hope in many.” He looked away when Lysander finally was able to deal with his trousers one-handed, as he needed to hold onto Thancred for support, and the Hyur stepped out of them and barely sat down on the bed without falling.

He maneuvered himself under the sheet while Thancred gathered up his clothes and draped them over the back of a chair to deal with later, and sighed again, staring at the ceiling. “...Hope. I… The Warrior of Light story really does that?”

Thancred sat on the edge of the bed and smirked at him. “You’re the traveler, you’ve heard the stories, you tell us.”

“...Well, yeah, they do, and that’s what I’ve heard, but… That wasn’t me, that’s-”

Thancred put a finger to the dancer’s lips to silence him, smirking smugly. “You were the one that inspired the legend, even if you don’t remember it. And admit it, that story gave _you_ hope sometimes, didn’t it?”

Trying to protest again, Lysander found himself unable to muster a valid argument. “...It did, yes.”

Smirking, Thancred poked his companion’s cheek. “You said earlier that you wanted me to have faith in you. Fine. You do the same for yourself, give yourself some damn credit for what you do!”

“...I’ll try.”

Urianger seemed satisfied with this and left, but Thancred hesitated a moment longer, then leaned over to give his companion one last, warm, lingering kiss. “...I hope you do, because that’s what we need most right now. Hope.” Standing up, he pulled the blanket over Lysander and palmed the panel for the light, then closed the door behind himself.

With a yawn, Lysander shifted for better comfort, feeling rather silly that he was so _tired_ so early, but… True, he _had_ had a trying day, so it wouldn’t be lazy of him to get some rest now. And...Thancred had asked him to be kinder to himself... He was asleep before his friends’ footsteps had disappeared down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.
> 
> And if you want even more interesting stuff, and enjoy both reading and writing fanfiction, come join us over at [Emet Selch's Wholesomely Debauched & Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic). We're mostly focused on FFXIV but we have writers and readers from many fandoms and are there to not only read and write some great stuff, but hype each other up to do so, because darn it, fanfiction just doesn't get the love that it deserves! And be sure to leave kudos and comments for the people you read, too! Writers need that validation to keep making delicious, free content, all they ask to be paid in is your adoration. ;)//


	12. Questions and Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //So today Lys basically triggers a cutscene, and I am just leaning into this so hard because I'm a music and theater nerd and I am so fucking _chuffed_ to be able to pull this off for not only the spectacle of it all, but to make that song diagetic to his story and this universe. I don't care how silly or cringe it is, this is happening and I am enjoying it so much. MUAHAHAHA. Ahhh, delicious foreshadowing. :3
> 
> Edit: I am also a dingus and forgot to link the damn reference, just in case, because it's badass and it needs to be seen again. [A Realm Reborn: The End of an Era](https://youtu.be/39j5v8jlndM). And again, yes, it's cringe to do this, but since I can't draw this is the kind of self-indulgent nonsense I get up to. :P
> 
> (I also fixed the transit from the Waking Sands to Ul'dah, because I realized that not only did I set up massive plot holes for later, it just makes more sense this way.)//

Though he had gone to bed quite early, Lysander didn’t rise until well after dawn, and though he felt rested he felt a little empty; his aether was still returning, but at least his body was mended. With a frustrated sigh he sat up and got out of bed, turning on the light before stretching all over to mentally and physically examine himself. Despite the minor cuts and bruises from the day before he didn’t feel at all hurt, and while his aether was low he didn’t feel tired. He put these thoughts aside to consider later as he put on his trousers again from the day before, but grabbed a fresh set of clothes to take with him. A towel and necessities needed for a shower were also gathered, and out of habit he ducked into the shadows on the way to the baths.

He was alone, and therefore allowed himself a bit of indulgence in humming to himself as he turned on the water, enjoying the way the sound bounced off of the hard surfaces. Undressing completely, he dropped his trousers and smalls on the floor, made sure his change of clean clothes wouldn’t get wet, then hung up his towel. The water was hot, and he enjoyed the tingling prickle that danced across his skin, easing a few aches he hadn’t realized he’d had. Feeling warm and relaxed, he wasn’t paying attention to anything else, and therefore yelped and jumped when someone pinched his bottom. He brushed damp hair out of his eyes and turned to see Thancred grinning at him.

“Looks like you’re doing well,” the rogue chuckled, leaning against the wall just out of range of the water, “I went to check on you and found the room empty, and figured you had gone here next.”

With an amused smirk, Lysander flicked water at him. “You know me better than anyone, luv. Get your arse in here, I don’t feel like shouting at you, and you could probably use a rinse as well.”

“As well as something else, I imagine!” he teased, slowly undoing the laces on his collar to tease further.

Lysander stuck his tongue out at the other man and scrubbed his fingers through his hair to make sure it was completely wet. “Hmph! I _was_ going to rub one out on my own in here, but with that sort of cheek I’ll just rub one out on my own _later_.” He grinned at the laugh he got, flicking water at him again. “I’ll keep my hands to myself, I just want to catch up on anything I missed while I was asleep.”

Thancred’s garments joined Lysander’s clean ones in a messy pile as the rogue joined him. “I highly doubt that, you’re just glad for the opportunity to have me join you so you don’t have to do _that_ on your own.”

Tweaking Thancred’s nose, he hugged him and ruffled his hair. “Give me credit for once! I mean, yeah, I do want to, but I’m trying to behave myself a bit.” He gasped when Thancred squeezed his bottom and nibbled his neck. “...Or I could just fuck you against the wall right now and talk later…”

“You could…”

Huffing a chuckle, Lysander kissed him deeply and dragged his nails down the rogue’s back. “Seems like _you_ are glad for the opportunity to join _me_ ,” he growled, “pity I couldn’t do this last night, but we both were a little tired. Mm, and Urianger was there, too, so-” He noticed the shiver that his companion made at the mention of the scholar, and he bit the edge of his ear, sucking while he grasped them both in one hand, now erect enough to do so. “Oh? You’d like that? Mm, but who would you use first? And how? Would you prefer to be pleasured by both of us, or maybe you and I could fill him from both ends?” At the low moan his partner made, Lysander swatted his bottom roughly and kissed him again. “Or maybe I see if I can take the both of you at once? So many lovely things that the three of us could do together and to each other…”

He bit Thancred’s neck hard enough to leave a mark, sucking to make sure there was a bruise under it. “Good thing you wear that choker, it lets me do things like that and still let you walk around respectably. First, though...against the wall, now.”

Thancred turned and braced himself as commanded, feeling his lover’s hard length slide between his legs, brushing the underside of his own need. He clenched his thighs around him, providing the desired friction, and moaned when Lysander reached around to stroke him. “Is that…” he began, then shivered when the dancer bit his other ear, growling, and reached up to tweak and roll a nipple. “Gods…” he panted, finding it hard to do anything but stay upright and maintain that delicious tightness. Somewhat lost in his own pleasure, Lysander found a fast, shallow rhythm, stroking his partner in time with it, just... _needing_ , and from the sounds that Thancred was trying to muffle he likewise wanted it almost as much.

“This is almost as good as the other night,” he whispered, “I really must have you like that again. Mm, especially if we can get him to join. Fuck, the thought of being able to take you like that while you swallow him as deep as you can, what do you-” He interrupted himself with a dark chuckle at the breathy moan that the other man made from thinking of such a thing. They didn’t last long, they didn’t want to, and Lysander only held back to ensure that Thancred finished before he let himself do so.

Stroking them both through it, Lysander growled again and nipped a loving line along Thancred’s shoulder, then sighed deeply and hugged him, wrapping around him as much as he could. “...Wow, I really needed that, sorry I was so demanding-”

“If I didn’t want it I wouldn’t have let you do that,” Thancred rebuffed, leaning into him and shuddering from aftershocks, “we were both....a little stressed after that mission.”

“We’re kinda simple like that, aren’t we? A quick shag solves a lot of our problems.” When Thancred turned around once more to return the hug and press kisses to the side of his jaw, Lysander smiled weakly. “Ah, and sorry I got a bit lewd about Urianger like that, we all know I have dirty thoughts about _everyone_ , but-” Thancred kissed him, arms twined around his neck, and Lysander let the matter drop. Whether or not Thancred had interest in the scholar was none of his damn business, and they had things to do that day. “Well, back to actual business, what did I miss after I went to sleep?”

Smiling and chuckling softly, Thancred ducked under the water spray while Lysander reached for a bottle and poured its contents into his hand. “Not much, to be honest. Minfilia continued to receive updates about the mission, but none of it involves us directly. Most of it is plans and contingencies for the future should that happen again. And it appears that you’ll be meeting up with Yda and Papalymo in a day or two once they have more on their end as well. Sounds like the Sylphs are planning similar mischief, and they’ll want you present when they go to parley, just in case not only does it become a fight, but a full summoning.”

“Easily done,” Lysander agreed, scrubbing his hair and then taking his place under the water while Thancred dealt with his own hair, “as long as I’m the only one there when it happens then I feel good about my chances.” He saw the way that Thancred’s shoulders slumped, and reflexively he pressed a hand to the other man’s face. “Hey. Love, talk to me.”

“Gods forgive me... How many more lives...?” He shook his head and put a hand over Lysander’s. “Louisoix would never have allowed that to happen. I have to do better… I have to be stronger-”

“Love,” interrupted Lysander, pulling him close and running a thumb over the other man’s lip, “you _are_ strong, and you’re doing fantastically. You work yourself so hard, _too_ hard. Hells, I said the same thing yesterday and got told off for it.” He gently traced a dark circle under his partner’s eye. “You aren’t sleeping enough, and what you are getting isn’t good. I know you’re not eating well enough, either. Louisoix is gone, love, and it’s my fault, but…” He hugged his companion again, fingers digging into his back and hair. “We’re both doing the best we can, and we’re getting better, we’re learning. Take care of yourself, take care of _you_. Please. You mean so much to all of us. And I remember how much he meant to you. I’m trying to atone for that and live up to the status I somehow obtained when I got flung through the Rift after having been completely bloody useless.”

Saying nothing, Thancred sighed and leaned into the hug, some of his tension easing a little. “...I am trying, but…”

“I know. Same here. If we can’t take care of ourselves for ourselves, then we’ll just have to do so for each other, right?”

With a laugh that sounded relieved, Thancred nodded and relaxed into one last kiss, then finished rinsing himself off as Lysander wrung the water from his hair. “Well, you’ll have plenty of time to take care of yourself today, I’m also here to let you know that Urianger, Tataru, and Minfilia have stated that you are to, in no uncertain terms, to rest and recover today.”

Lysander shrugged as Thancred shut off the water. “Good, maybe you can get some rest, too.” When the other man protested he pinned him against the wall, both wrists secured above the rogue’s head with one hand, cupping his chin firmly with the other. “You are going to rest as well, love,” he purred, nuzzling his partner’s neck, “because if you don’t I will tie you to the bed. And I will be particularly wicked in that not only will I not play with you, I will bring in Urianger so we can talk of the most boring things possible.”

Yet again Thancred shivered, but he sighed and gave his companion a wry smile. “You fight dirty, Lys, I had forgotten about that. I’ll not forget again.”

“You had better not,” Lysander chuckled, releasing him and tracing a finger down the rogue’s cheek, “because I’ll not play as nice next time, and I won’t give warning or mercy.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Thancred laughed, allowing Lysander to do his hair-drying trick on him and sighing at the warming sensation, “but… Aye, you win, I’ll stay here today.”

Lysander dried his own hair, then caught his towel when Thancred tossed it to him, having had used it himself, then set about getting dressed. “First thing, then, I’m wicked famished again, let’s go hit the kitchens and see what else we can find out about the next few days. Just because I’m supposed to be resting doesn’t mean I can’t be prepared!”

The rest of the day was spent under the watchful eyes of the Antecedent, scholar, and receptionist, all of whom agreed with Lysander’s insistence that Thancred take the day to recover as well. This was once more met with a sigh, but it was with a smile, and Thancred admitted to Lysander when nobody was listening that he _had_ wanted to have some time to catch up with him anyroad. As such, the dancer insisted on learning more about the Waking Sands and its personnel, about the other Scions, and other things that he had missed in the last five years.

This suited everyone just fine, and not only was Lysander able to talk further with Urianger about the fight with Ifrit, but he was also able to get to know the Leveilleur twins a bit better, telling them tales of his travels with their grandfather, after dinner over cups of tea, though he had to stop to scrub away tears after a while. They reassured him that they did not hold him at all at fault for the Archon’s death, as what could he have done to stop Louisoix from sending him to safety? Needing to find his center again, he got up to perform, drawing a crowd of nearly everyone at the Sands.  
  
It wasn’t that he needed or wanted attention. It was the rush of performing well, to inspire and amaze and enchant, and seeing them all watching with rapt attention, focused on his every move and sound, he felt _alive_. Despite his stamina, he had promised to take it easy, and after gentle chiding from Minfilia he laughed and agreed to get some sleep. Though a shared glance to Thancred meant that he would be going to _bed_ immediately, but not quite to sleep yet, and he joined the rogue in his room a little later. It wasn’t anything deep or romantic, just shared need and release, and when Lysander finally sagged atop his partner, panting for breath, he smiled when the other man reached up to caress his cheek. They were good for each other in many respects, especially _this_ , but they knew it wasn’t going to last, they knew that the other man deserved better. He leaned down for one last kiss before dismounting and standing on shaky legs, then gathered his clothes, stepping into the shadows before ducking out the door and hugging the wall to the next room over.

Inside his room he sighed and turned on the light, putting away his clothes and a couple of other things that he’d forgotten to deal with earlier, then turned the light off again and got into bed. He had wanted to stay with Thancred, and it had been mutual, but it was for the best, just in case. While he didn’t care much about his own reputation, he was considerate of Thancred’s, even if the man was known for being an unrepentant flirt who tried to coax nearly every female he met into his bed. He yawned and stretched, then got comfortable, dozing off in a few minutes.

The next morning he woke a bit early, feeling _very_ good. Since he was going to the remembrance ceremony that day he cheekily dressed nicely after washing up in the bathroom, wearing the black-and-white outfit with the ruffled shirt and waistcoat, the trousers with chains, and the monochrome shoes that he’d worn when delivering the ceremony missives to the other cities. It just seemed _right_. Humming to himself, he pulled a brush through his hair, redid the braid, and added the gloves, hat, and other accessories. Numerous daggers and knives were stashed in easy reach, and he affixed the chain in his left ear after putting on his other earrings, then left to go find a cup of tea and meet up with everyone else who was going.

As he was one of the first to be up, he had time for two cups of tea and some toast with rolanberry jam before everyone else had gathered; Minfilia, Thancred, Urianger, and the twins. Tataru was interested, but claimed that there was always so much to do, and she just couldn’t take herself away from the work. Lysander was relieved to find out that Alphinaud and Alisaie had been through Ul’dah recently, then to Horizon, and therefore could use the aetherytes.

“Well, I’m ready if you are,” he grinned, enjoying the early morning sunshine on his face outside, “think you all can ‘port to Horizon from here, or should we grab a ride?” It was a sensible question, as while he and Thancred were accustomed to such travel, he wasn’t sure about the others, but thankfully they all had the connection to the Horizon crystal and the aether to make the jump, and after using that one to link to the Ul'dahn one, a couple of minutes later they regrouped and made their way to the Steps of Thal.

Minfilia looked around, enjoying the familiar scenery that she hadn’t seen in a while. “It is to be held at the Royal Promenade,” she said, tapping a finger to her chin, “a lovely place for it, and large enough to accommodate a large number of people, while still being secure enough in case of…”

“In case of trouble,” Lysander supplied, finishing her thought, “aye, after the shenanigans earlier this week with the crown and all I expect the Sultansworn to be on full alert. Hmm.” He adjusted his hat and grinned. “I think I’ll pay Raubahn a visit, see if I could be useful on security detail. I’ve got a feeling something’s gonna happen, but I’m not sure if good or bad, and having a sneaky whoreson like me in the shadows on their side could be useful.”

“And you complained that _I_ work too hard,” Thancred smirked, cuffing his companion’s shoulder, “but you are right, this would be an excellent time to try something if one were given to such mischief. Go on, then, we’ll find a spot in the crowd, you go do something you can brag about later.”

Laughing, Lysander gave everyone a hug and a peck on the cheek before going on ahead. He had considered checking in at the Hall of Flames, but it was more likely that everyone was going to already be staged at the Promenade, and if he was wrong and was a bit early, well, he was still in the right area! He was right, and got many angry glares and swords pointed in his direction before he was recognized. Holding up his hands, he laughed again, grinning at how quickly people had forgotten him long ago but now recalled him in seconds.

The Sultansworn put away their weapons as the Flame General walked up, and he was surprised to see Lysander there. “Well, lieutenant, what brings you this way? I’m glad to see you here but I do not recall summoning you specifically.”

He shrugged and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, looking around his surroundings as he looked for anything that would need their attention. “Just a feeling, sir, after the business with the crown, and now this, especially on the anniversary of the Calamity, _something_ is going to happen. Like I told the others, good or bad I don’t know, but I’d rather be close by in case things go a bit wrong.”

“Hmm, you’re not the only one,” Raubahn agreed, gesturing for Lysander to follow him, “we’ve secured everything as best we can, but once the crowd shows up there’s no telling what will happen.”

Lysander took in the balcony from which Raubahn and the Sultana would address the people, and he ran a few things through his mind. “Well, if I won’t be in the way, I can stay up here unseen and keep an eye on things where the others can’t. I can monitor everything, and get anywhere I need to in seconds from up here. Some of the Scions are here, too, so if something does happen I’ve got backup.”

“If I had a hundred men like you I could finish this war with Garlemald and free Ala Mhigo in a month,” Raubahn laughed, “but I’m grateful for what I have now. Aye, lad, you have leave to take whatever action you deem necessary.”

The Sultana arrived at this moment, and unlike their first meeting, she was pleased to see the dancer, gesturing for him to rise when he knelt in respect. “Lysander, you continue to serve the crown, and for that you have our continued thanks.”  
  
“I’m glad to be of service,” he replied, “especially now that I remember everything. I heard about the ‘Sultana’s Seven’ shortly after it happened, and am glad to see that the city continues to prosper even after its near-destruction. If there is more that I can do to ensure this city’s prosperity I will see it done.”

He was dismissed to take up his post while the other two finished their own preparations, and he stepped into the shadows to find a good spot to watch everything from. After a few minutes he hopped up onto the balcony railing, then leaned against the column it attached to and grinned to himself. Yes, this would do; he could see the entire crowd from there, as well as Raubahn and Nanamo where they would stand, and there were no avenues of approach or blind spots. The citizens were already filing, in, talking softly among themselves, and he folded his arms across his chest as he scanned the area below, looking for anything unusual.

Strangely, _nothing_ was unusual, and that was strange in itself, but maybe, for once, something would go _right_ , and he had worried for nothing. This thought was reassuring, and he smiled fondly when he saw his friends. They had also taken up a place that would let them watch for danger as well, and while they conversed amongst themselves he saw how Thancred kept a sharp eye out for peril as well. He felt a flush of pleased surprise when the other man looked past his hiding spot, then blinked and looked directly at him. Amused, he blew a kiss and got a wink and a smile for it. The rogue apparently had let the others know of his location, judging from Minfilia’s chuckle, Urianger’s shrug, and the way that the twins tried to look without actually looking and totally _failed_ at being subtle.

The sound of music cut all chatter, announcing the arrival of the presenting party, and Lysander grinned again.

_Showtime._

The crowd broke into applause and cheers when Raubahn stepped up to the balcony railing and the Sultana onto a pedestal so that she could be seen. They were dressed in finery, but not the gaudy, lavish sort of nobility flaunting wealth, it was a soldier in military dress and a ruler in the garments befitting her station. The Highlander gestured to the crowd as he orated in a resonant bellow.

“Hark you, souls of flame, drawn to the bosom of the desert, where the fire burns brightest and shall rage forevermore!” The crowd cheered again, and Lysander felt a rush of pride as well. Ooh, he was _good_. “Where since antiquity, under the sage and judicious rule of the Ul Dynasty, we have wrought sand into gold! Where by the Grace and Glory of Nald'thal have our brave sons and daughters flourished and prospered, I speak of Ul'dah!” The crowd cheered again and he opened his arms wide to encompass the people amassed before himself. “Great and many are the gifts our nation has given the realm. In Eorzea's darkest hour, on the killing fields of Carteneau, none spent more in blood and gold than we. Thus was the VIIth Imperial Legion laid low!”

More cheering, and Lysander spun the events of Carteneau back in his mind. While it was a bit of chest-beating, the Flame General was right; the Flames had fielded many soldiers and too few of them returned home… This was next to be addressed, earning another silent smile from the stealthed dancer. “Yet many left our gates, never to return. Let us pray for our absent brothers and sisters, that they might know happiness in the great beyond, as Thal's honored guests. If the fates were fair, the price we paid that day would have bought us victory. Alas, they are not. And now, but five years into this Seventh Umbral Era, the spirit of sacrifice which granted us our strength is all but dead. Look around you. What do you see? A people divided, downtrodden and enthralled! Where are the merciful alms of the rich? Where is the just steel of the righteous?”

Lysander resisted the urge to whistle to himself. Oh yes, he was _good._ Inspire and uplift, remind them of the good that they had done, but remind them of the cost that had had to be paid, and why. There was a bit of muttering in the crowd as people averted their gaze, taking his words to heart, and the general continued, his tone strong and determined. “I ask you: is this the great nation our brothers and sisters gave their lives to save? You who call this 'living' dishonor the name of the Immortal Flames, it is but a slow death! Our enemies surround us. The savage hordes of the Amalj'aa wait beside our roads, strangling the lifelines of trade. Meanwhile, the Garleans make mock of our borders, and despoil our land of its natural wealth. We stand on a precipice...yet we do not act.”

His voice grew softer but no less determined. “Whether trader or soldier, Monetarist or Royalist, all must recognize that a divided Ul'dah stands to fall. Victory and Fortune walk hand in hand! Ye who seek glory and wealth! Look not to what little you can snatch from your neighbor, but to the boundless wealth of the world beyond!” He gestured again to the crowd, speaking louder and with pride. “Now is the time to unite! Now is the time to ride forth! In the name of the sultana, I beseech you! Line not your own coffers, but those of the Immortal Flames! Seek not to prosper from Ul'dah, but to restore her to prosperity! As the realm prospers, so shall Ul'dah. As Ul'dah prospers, so shall her people!

Cheering and applause once more erupted from the crowd, and Lysander nearly forgot to stop keeping watch. This had been very cleverly written and diligently practiced, and it was not likely to be forgotten by those in attendance. Raubahn stepped back and bowed to the Sultana at his side. “Your Grace.”

She nodded in reply and addressed the crowd now, and while she did not have the same projection and emphasis that Raubahn did, her words were still laced with honest, earnest emotion. “People of Ul'dah! I, Nanamo, seventeenth in the line of Ul, address you. Much has been made of the wealth of Ul'dah. Yet those who measure that wealth in coins and carats are gravely deceived. For the true wealth of Ul'dah lies in the health, happiness, and hopes of her people. Beloved subjects, I bid you raise aloft the torch of Ul'dah, that her Flames might serve as a beacon for all Eorzea to see!”

Cheers of “Long live Nanamo!” and “Glory to the sultana!” echoed throughout the venue, and Lysander smiled again, feeling the tingle of...something… So many people there, all of this emotion and power, and everyone of one mind as they found unity for just a little bit...

Raubahn raised a fist in a triumphant gesture. “For Victory and Fortune, stride fearless into the inferno, for we are by fire reborn!”

The roar of the crowd mixed with the roar of battle, in a memory five years old, and Lysander found himself humming something, remembering, and…

“I close my eyes, tell us why must we suffer… Release your hands, for your will drags us under… My legs grow tired, tell us where must we wander… How can we carry on if redemption's beyond us?...”

His voice was soft enough that people felt the power of it before they heard it, and everyone on the balcony looked about for its source, as Lysander was still hidden. And as people heard him, they remembered as well…

_He looks to the lesser moon where it blots out the sun where the sky is not already blanketed with roiling clouds of black and red, lit by a sickly light…_

“To all of my children in whom Life flows abundant. To all of my children to whom Death hath passed his judgement. The soul yearns for honor, and the flesh the hereafter. Look to those who walked before to lead those who walk after…”

_Imperial soldiers clash with armies from the three Grand Companies, and lines are weakening, the Garlean might is too much, the Eorzean Alliance must fall back… The screams of those who fight are almost drowned out by the cries of the hurt and dying._

“Shining is the Land's light of justice. Ever flows the Land's well of purpose. Walk free, walk free, walk free, believe… The Land is alive, so believe…”

_Fire falls from the skies, shed by the red moon as it descends, showering not only the battlefield but civilian populations as well, and new fires are starting. Warmachina shake the earth as they advance, and then all is stilled with shared horror when one of the great pillars that sprout from Dalamud separates from the moon, falling to the ground and burying itself deep as it sends up dirt and stone for yalms in all directions, killing instantly anyone who was unfortunate to be near it._

Everyone was now enthralled, caught up in his memory and song, and they now sang as well, and he answered their shouts as an echo. “Suffer! _(Feel!)_ Promise! _(Think!)_ Witness! _(Teach!)_ Reason! _(Hear!)_ Follow! _(Feel!)_ Wander! _(Think!)_ Stumble! _(Teach!)_ Listen! _(Speak!)_ Honor! _(Speak!)_ Value! _(Tell!)_ Whisper! _(Tell!)_ Mention! _(Hope!)_ Ponder! _(Hope!)_ …”

His blood surged with power and memory, and sang with his entire soul, no longer in the shadow, remembering… “Now open your eyes while our plight is repeated. Still deaf to our cries, lost in hope we lie defeated. Our souls have been torn, and our bodies forsaken. Bearing sins of the past, for our future is taken.”

_The moon’s surface flares with a light from within, its surface cracking and fracturing like some hellish egg, and more pillars fall as well as shards of the moon itself. Then there is a sound, an awful guttural howl as it shatters, scattering fragments far and wide, and from within unfurls wings of fire. It is not a moon, but a prison, and its prisoner is now free, the dread wyrm Bahamut, as it roars with bestial fury and uses its newfound freedom to strafe the battlefield with fire. It is terrible and beautiful, and it is death incarnate._

“War born of strife, these trials persuade us not. Words without sound, these lies betray our thoughts. Mired by a plague of doubt, the Land, she mourns. Judgement binds all we hold to a memory of scorn. Tell us why, given Life, we are meant to die, helpless in our cries?”

_Fire streaks behind him and strikes randomly, wreaking havoc in his path, and leaving nothing but absolute devastation. The sky is filled with fire and sound and death, and all flee the battlefield in terror. It is chaos, but Bahamut has no interest in them, and it flies to where Louisoix and his guardian stand. Fire fills his vision and he throws up his arms to protect himself, knowing it will do nothing. A barrier rises just in time, and Louisoix staggers as the impact shatters it. He focuses and reforms it, only for it to be broken once more. The guardian steps back as Bahamut descends to hover before them, a piercing screech making them wince in pain. This is the end..._

Once again the crowd shouted in unison, and this time they were the ones to echo him. “Witness! _(Feel!)_ Suffer! _(Think!)_ Borrow! _(Teach!)_ Reason! _(Hear!)_ Follow! _(Feel!)_ Stumble! _(Think!)_ Wander! _(Teach!)_ Listen! _(Blink!)_ Whisper! _(Blink!)_ Shoulder! _(Blink!)_ Ponder! _(Blink!)_ Weather! _(Hear!)_ Answer! _(Look!)_ Answer! _(Think!)_ Answer together!”

_Light flares from a distance, blue-white and brilliant, and it is joined by another, and then another… The guardian feels a surge of hope, then laughs and cheers. The Circle! They have done it! Their allies have gathered the people of Eorzea to pray with them to the Twelve for help, and the Twelve have answered. Bolstered, Louisoix stands again, raising Tupsimati high, and Bahamut is now surrounded by spears of light. It roars defiance once more and wraps its wings around itself for protection as those spears begin to pierce its aetheric barrier. They hold it in place while a new prison forms around it, of light of the same white and blue, and a great ring encircles it, with the sigils of the Twelve glowing brightly. The sigils flare and rise, falling inward, completing the binding, closing in to lock away the elder primal once more. But it fails; Bahamut is too strong, and it shatters its would-be prison, the shockwave sending both Archon and guardian to the ground, the staff shattered and a sword spinning away from its owner’s hand._

“Thy Life is a riddle, to bear rapture and sorrow. To listen, to suffer, to entrust unto tomorrow. In one fleeting moment, from the Land doth life flow. Yet in one fleeting moment, for anew it doth grow.”

_He gets to his feet, feeling the cold grip of terror grasp his heart. It is the end, they will die here. He manages a weak smile and a laugh. “I’ve never fought a god before, but I’ll try,” he says, trying to be brave, and turns to Louisoix, “I just need to-” He sees the Archon channel powerful magics and he feels the tingle of aether on his skin as the spell takes hold. His eyes go wide as he realizes what is happening, and he reaches out to the Archon, with a desperate plea to stop, he had promised to protect him! The world goes white, and his senses leave him..._

The memory faded and they returned to themselves and the present, and they blinked as they looked around, wondering what they had seen, and if it was real, and if it had just been them, or… They looked up as one as Lysander’s voice grew softer, still channeling the power of the song and the memory.

“In the same fleeting moment. Thou must live, die and know…”

He was lost in his own mind and this strange sense, this odd type of power, and he was pulled back to reality by stunned silence. He panicked for a moment; oh _shit_ , what had he just done, he had interrupted the ceremony, he-

It was small at first, the sound of surprised applause, but in seconds the venue was filled with accolades for his performance, and he looked out over the crowd, realizing that he had just shared his memory of Carteneau with nearly half of the city. Shoving that to the back of his mind, he smiled and made an elegant, sweeping bow, still balanced neatly on the railing.

“Lieutenant,” asked Raubahn in a stage whisper directed at him, “what the swiving hells was _that_?”

“I may have had a problem with my Echo, sir,” he replied in the same, “roll with it and I’ll beg your forgiveness when we’re out of sight.”

“Damn right you will,” huffed the General with a smirk, and he stepped forward, applauding as well to address the crowd again. “Remember what has been given, the price that was paid for peace and prosperity. Never lose sight of the sacrifices made by our kin, that their memories may be honored and their works live ever more! By fire reborn!”

The crowd surged with cheers once more, and Lysander stepped back to hop off of the railing, then pivoted on his toes to duck behind Raubahn and disappear. Safe in the shadows, he slipped away out of sight of the populace, and suppressed a soft scream. What the _fuck_ had he just done?! He put a hand to his ear and called Thancred, and sighed when the rogue demanded to know what he had done. “You’re not the only one, and I’m about to get an arse-chewing from the sultana and the general, so assuming I’m still alive in a few minutes I’ll meet you by the Quicksand.” The Scion agreed to this, and Lysander took a deep breath to settle himself.

He waited until Raubahn approached before stepping out into visibility again, nearly getting punched for it. “Thal’s _balls_ , boy, I thought you had more survival instinct!” the general snorted, folding his arms across his chest. Nanamo agreed with him as she stalked over.

“You have been given quite a bit of leeway with our patience, but you had better explain what you just did there. Controlling the minds of an entire audience?! What _were_ you thinking?”

“I wasn’t!” replied Lysander, holding up his hands in defense, then he thought about his reply and winced. “Okay, wrong phrasing. I wasn’t _trying_ anything, that was a complete accident, and I’m not entirely sure how it happened. I was just listening to your speeches, and it...reminded me of something. I...was... It just happened. I’m not sure, but it feels like something to do with the Echo, and I’m not sure if I can trigger it myself or if it’s accidental. All I know is I can see the memories of others sometimes, so I suppose it makes sense that I can share-”

He went silent for a moment, then whooped with delight. “I can bloody share memories, I was right, haha! Oh, I can’t wait to bounce this off of Urianger, I-” Both general and sultana were staring at him, and he managed a weak laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll be talking with the other Scions about that, if anything else so I don’t do that accidentally in the future.”

“So you want to be able to do it on command?” asked Raubahn, now looking amused since it was clear that this had been completely unintentional.

Lysander rubbed the back of his neck again and thought. “Well, yes, if I can share a memory it could be useful. Like that fight with Ifrit, being able to share tactics or be able to review what had happened could be fantastically useful.”

Sighing, Nanamo shook her head, but she looked relieved. “You are truly a strange man, Lysander, and well glad am I to have you fighting for us.”

With a deep bow, Lysander felt tension between his shoulders melt away, glad that he had not made a massive blunder and buggered up the entire ceremony. “With your leave, Your Grace, I’ll go meet up with my companions right away so that we can begin researching this...ability.”

“Be well, Lysander, and be prepared for us to call upon you again. You have proved to be a valuable ally upon whom we can rely.”

A little while later, Thancred looked up as Lysander strode over with his usual swagger, and sighed as he shook his head. “I’ve no idea what you did there, but all of us shared a...dream of Carteneau and-”

He was interrupted when Lysander grabbed him by the shoulders, a grin completely bisecting his face. “Love, I did it, _I shared a memory_. Just like I had wanted to! Well, okay, not like _that_ , but…”

Urianger stared at him, open-mouthed, then it was his turn to grasp the dancer by the shoulders. “Thou hast discovered a means by which thee can impart thy memories to another? Then what we saw…”

“...Yeah, that…” Lysander sagged a little. “That was what happened. And… I’m sorry, you saw it, half the city did. I was useless. He did everything, and at the end he sent me away. I wonder, could he have lived and come back to us if he hadn’t had to waste the time and power to send me to safety. I…”

He blinked when Alphinaud and Alisaie hugged him around the waist, and he paused before returning it, an arm around their shoulders. Thancred put his arms around his neck from behind, kissing him just below the ear in a way that nobody could see. “We never blamed you, Lys, and now, seeing what you went through… Gods, that was terrifying, but you still tried to smile at the end. Would that I’ll be able to have that courage should the same happen…”

Lysander wasn’t expecting this support, and Minfilia noticed it, giggling softly. “One day you’ll believe in yourself the way that everyone does for you, Lysander. For now, let us return and discuss your new skill. This is not something that we have encountered in others with the Echo, and if it is an ability newly manifested, then we must needs study it so that you can control it. At the least to ensure that it does not mesmerize an entire crowd of people when you aren’t intending to!”

This got a warm laugh out of Lysander, and he hugged everyone back before they let him go, with Minfilia and the twins splitting off to head to the bazaar for supplies, since they were already in the city and might as well pick up a few things that would be needed back at the Waking Sands. The other three found a spot to sit on the edge of one of the fountains in the shade, and Urianger pressed Lysander for every detail he could about that strange use of the Echo, writing quickly in his notebook. After a few minutes Lysander shifted to drape his legs over Urianger’s and rested his head in Thancred’s lap, earning a strange look from one man and a look of amused resignation from the other.

Remembering something, Thancred toyed with a lock of copper hair as he thought. “I just realized, that song you use when you fight…”

“Yeah, it’s the same one I just sang,” Lysander replied, wrinkling his nose as he thought, “those words are new, I’m not sure where they came from, but that melody… It feels like a part of me. Something that I’ve had through several lifetimes, and I don’t know why or how. It’s something I want to try to dive into but I’m not sure how or where to start!” The three of them talked about everything that had happened that day, exchanging ideas and concepts, and all the while Urianger made endless notes. At some point Lysander dozed off for a nap, only waking up when Urianger tried to move him so that he could stand up.

Yawning, he sat up and stretched, swatting away Thancred’s hand when the other man prodded his side in a playful tickle. They chatted idly as they made their way back to the aetheryte, and everyone took a couple of packages, so as to lighten the aetheric load of teleporting. With contact made they went to Horizon, and once together again, Minfilia offered to arrange the carriage back to the Waking Sands when a sudden commotion got their attention. Flames were shouting directions and running to someone clearly in command. Naturally, Lysander ran over to investigate, setting down the items he had accepted from Alphinaud before he darted off.

“What’s the fuss?” he asked, skidding to a stop, and before anyone else could answer a private ran up, snapping off a salute as he panted for breath.

“Imperials in Thanalan! They've fired on a Highwind Skyways airship! Scouts say she's coming down to the west, near Horizon's Edge!”

Everyone swore collectively and softly, and Lysander snarled, feeling a knot of anger form in his stomach. “I’m on it, send backup to retrieve the aircraft as soon as possible.”

The Flames were surprised to have some random adventurer barking orders at them, but they saw the insignia on his collar, and one of them huffed a dark laugh of recognition. “You’re lieutenant Morgensonne! I was there for the Ifrit operation. Well, with you here we’ll have those whoresons running in no time.”

“Run? Oh, I don’t intend to let any of them live,” he smirked, “this is _my_ territory, and I don’t need reasons to kill Imperials, just an opportunity.” Before anyone could offer any help or resistance, he was taking off at a loping run, at a pace he could keep up for a very long time. He knew the direction that the private had stated and a quick glance at the sky showed a dissipating trail of smoke. The scouts were right, now he had to just get there in time…

A short while later he crested a small hill, then immediately ducked behind it again, seeing three Imperial scouts investigating the crashed airship. The shadows suddenly became very dangerous as Lysander slipped into them, moving as quickly as he could without being detected.

“Found the crew yet?” asked one scout, and a fourth one stood up from the deck, shaking his head.

“No, not yet, it looks like they bailed before the crash, let’s-”

He was cut off when a knife appeared to materialize in his eye, and he made a choked sound as he toppled forward to fall off and land lifelessly on the rocks below. The other three scouts started in panic, but before they could seek out the assassin, one made a gurgling scream as his throat was slit from behind. Lysander couldn’t maintain his stealth after that, but he didn’t need it any longer anyway. His rapier appeared in his hand, and with a wide, arcing slice, a third scout likewise went down in a spray of blood. The fourth put a hand to his ear, about to call for help, when another thrown dagger lodged itself in his neck, and he could only make a strangled gasp as he fell.

Drawing another dagger, Lysander quickly scanned his surroundings, looking for any other units, then exhaled sharply, sheathing it and dismissing his sword. He retrieved both daggers (wiping off the gore on the victim’s clothing and glad that he’d not got any on himself), put them away, and looked around. If the crew had abandoned the craft before impact, then… Mentally backtracking the ship’s trajectory, he broke into a run again, looking for a good hiding place, and- Ah-ha! Whoever had been piloting the craft was good at that, but not so much hiding, as the shrubbery was sparse and short, and the Roegadyn and his bright blue outfit stuck out vividly.

...That color, that logo on his shoulder, he knew them….

“It’s safe,” he called out, “I killed the scouts, and your ship looks mostly intact.”

“Wha- Who-” The other man stood up, adjusted his goggles, and looked at him warily. “An adventurer? And- Wait, a Flame, too?”

Lysander gestured toward the ship. “I’m Lysander Morgensonne, and Lys is just fine. Let’s go.”

“Ah! Wedge! He’s still on the ship!”

“He’s fine, the scouts didn’t find anyone, so wherever he hid it was a damn good spot.”

The other man sagged with relief and fell into a loping trot next to Lysander. “Name’s Biggs, we’re with the Ironworks and were on our way to Ul'dah to work on the new airship prototype they’re working on there when we got fired on.” The Hyur perked up and remarked that he’d had the chance to use that ship earlier that week, and Biggs nearly glowed with pride. “It’s a beauty, isn’t it? It's the first airship we've built since the Calamity, the first since Master Garlond...well, since he went missing.”

That name, it was familiar, but Lysander couldn’t remember why… He put it aside to think about later as they arrived back at the ship, and Biggs paled when he saw the bodies. Swallowing, he shut his eyes to steady himself, then boarded the ship to search for his missing companion, calling his name. Lysander stayed on the ground, keeping an eye out for reinforcements, and grinned when some arrived; mounted Flames were riding up, and they reined in once they had got close enough to not need to shout. The sergeant in charge noticed the corpses and gave a low whistle. “Damn, you adventurers don’t mess around.”

Shrugging, Lysander grinned. “I fight dirty. Honor is for sparring practice. Out here, kill fast or be killed.”

“And of the crew?” The sergeant’s question was answered when the Roegadyn waved at them from the deck of the ship, joined by a Lalafell. “Ah, well, that answers that. Well, looks like you solved the problem for us!”

Shrugging again, Lysander nudged a scout with the side of his foot. “Only part of it, when they don’t report in then reinforcements are likely going to be on the way. We might be lucky and they’ll only send a small party to try to figure out why they lost commo or to retrieve their dead, but this hints at a bigger threat in that we’ve got fucking Imperials so close to Ul’dah.”

The sergeant grimaced and patted his mount on the neck. “Same thing all of us thought. This is going straight to the General once we’re done here. Looks like patrols are going to be doubled, and the radius extended.”

One of the Flames had ridden over to the two Ironworks crew, and was discussing whether or not the aircraft was flight-worthy. The sergeant inquired about this, and Wedge scratched his head, looking concerned. “The auxiliary propeller is a dead loss, but I think we can wring enough thrust from the main propeller to get us airborne. It’s not much, but if we can get her into the sky we can limp the rest of the way to Ul’dah.”

“Understood. Right, give me two to go with them,” shouted the sergeant to his troops, “make sure that the ship gets to its destination and report in when you get there.”

Two Flames dismounted, saluted, and handed over their reins to someone else before running to assist the engineers. Lysander watched them and shrugged again. “Looks like I’m not needed anymore. Mind if I borrow one of those birds to go back with you?” His request was granted, and as he mounted up he put a hand to his ear, as it was Thancred’s turn to call _him_.

“We’ve got transport secured,” said the rogue, “are you still off causing mischief?”

“Ha! You know me so well. I’ll explain when I get there, we’re riding back now.”

As promised, once on the carriage, he filled them in on the quick sidequest, as it were, and blinked at the curious stares from the Leveilleur twins. “And you just...run off and do things, just like that?” asked Alphinaud, somewhat confused, “no questions asked, you’re off running?”

Yet again Lysander shrugged. “I’m a bit stupid like that, aye, but… It’s just what I do. I wander around and help out where I can. I’ve got skills, abilities, and now some new powers that many others don’t, so it just feels...like a duty to use them to fix things.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Alisaie grinned, “fighting bad guys and saving the day, so heroic and brave! I could get into that sort of thing.”

“I’m not going to discourage you, but it’s not all fun and games,” Lysander warned, “I’ve been cut up pretty bad a few times and…” He sighed deeply and leaned against Thancred, suddenly feeling tired. “You saw that memory. Sometimes all I can do is run, or be sent away. That hurts worse than just getting my ass kicked in a fight.” He hummed a soft thanks when Thancred gave him a small hug. “I’ll be happy to teach you both what I can, but, well…” Once more he shrugged and chuckled weakly. “I just make this look good.”

“You will have to put off those lessons for a little while,” Minfilia chimed in, “the Adders are requesting your aid as soon as possible. While there does not seem to be the immediate danger of a summoning, and they’ve not had the same thefts and kidnappings that we saw in Thanalan, they would rather resolve this as soon as possible.”

“Then I guess I’m off to Gridania tomorrow. I’m rested and feeling good, and there’s nothing holding me here right now.” He felt Thancred’s fingers tighten slightly on his shoulder, and he pressed in with his own fingers on the other man’s leg in reply. They would miss each other, but at least they had been reunited and had had some time together. The rest of the trip was filled with merry conversations, most of it pertaining to Lysander’s past travels with the Circle and Louisoix. Back at the Waking Sands, Lysander excused himself to go pack for the next day’s travel, and smiled to himself to feel a shadow detach itself from the wall and follow him down the hall.

He left the door open behind him as he tapped the light panel, then removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair. “Hey, love, you don’t have to help, but I appreciate it.”

Thancred closed the door and leaned against it. “...’Tis silly to worry about you, especially after all that you have done these last couple of days, but…”

“But we always worry most about those who mean the most to us. You’re glad that Minfilia spends most of her time here, aren’t you? And you almost went with her to the bazaar,” he smiled, hanging up his hat and beginning to take off his earrings, “I saw the way you almost went to join her. ...That parade, it still…” Thancred didn’t answer, rubbing his arms as he looked away. Nodding, Lysander removed his gloves and leaned on the wardrobe to remove his shoes while standing. “I understand. I ran off without a second thought when I heard Imperials were in the area. After losing father like that, I just…tend to not think.”

He unbuttoned his waistcoat and shrugged out of it, hanging it up, then worked on his shirt. “I know for sure that if something happened to you I’d… I don’t know, it wouldn’t be good. I’m not strong enough to lose people I love again. All of this power, I…” He paused as he removed his shirt, toying with the fabric before hanging it up. “I need to be stronger, I’ve got so much to protect now.”

Thancred finally moved, pushing off of the door to slide his arms around Lysander’s waist, pressing their foreheads together. “We both do. Here, I’ll help you pack, then I’ll stay with you.”

Kissing him softly and briefly, Lysander stroked his cheek. “Oh? And what about your reputation?”

“Hang my damn reputation,” Thancred huffed, “this isn’t goodbye, this is…”

“...No regrets. I understand. Well, let’s get me set up for travel, good thing I’ve got some of my old gear back, I tended to avoid Gridania in my travels since it was such an effing _bother_ most of the time. Muggy and so many damn vilekin, and those bloody spirits being judgmental for no damn reason… I’ll finish this as fast as I can so I can come home.”

Thancred laughed with delight, and Lysander gave him a funny look. “You said ‘come home.’ You have always been a wanderer, but it’s a relief to know that you already think of this as a place to which you can return.” Lysander laughed in reply; he was right, and he recalled already thinking of it as such a few nights earlier, which he mentioned, getting another hug for it.

They ensured that his backpack was loaded with all that he would need, and left anything else to be carried on his person when he got ready in the morning. That out of the way, they allowed themselves one last night of physical indulgence together, taking their time to enjoy it and ensure that the both of them were satisfied. Eventually, they lay together, limbs twined around each other, Thancred’s face in his partner’s shoulder while the dancer carded his fingers through the platinum hair. “Thanks, love. I’ll be back as soon as I can. And you take care of yourself. Please. If not for you then for me, I’ll be selfish and demand it, okay?”

Lysander couldn’t see the other man nod in the darkness, but he felt the gesture against his body. “Like I said, I will try, but… We both have so much to do, things that others cannot.” Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, Lysander pulled away to press another to his lover’s lips, letting it linger before shifting to roll onto his other side. Knowing the unspoken request, Thancred moved closer to curl up around him from behind, one arm over his waist once the blanket had been pulled back into place. Both of them dozed off quickly, reassured by the presence of the other person, and they slept deeply until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.
> 
> And if you want even more interesting stuff, and enjoy both reading and writing fanfiction, come join us over at [Emet Selch's Wholesomely Debauched & Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic). We're mostly focused on FFXIV but we have writers and readers from many fandoms and are there to not only read and write some great stuff, but hype each other up to do so, because darn it, fanfiction just doesn't get the love that it deserves! And be sure to leave kudos and comments for the people you read, too! Writers need that validation to keep making delicious, free content, all they ask to be paid in is your adoration. ;)//


	13. Forest for the Trees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Apologies for the hiatus, I had a couple of smaller things to knock out, work and life just ATE MY SOUL for the last two months, and I was also trying to desperately finish my Stardew Valley series. I'd been working on the last chapter for the third book since _March_ , and I had started writing the first book FOUR YEARS AGO. I...really wanted to finish that and accomplish something... ;_;
> 
> Anyroad, we're back on the road! Time to head out to Gridania and meet up with Yda and Papalymo! Also, this is taking stupid forever 'cause I'm trying to keep it close to MSQ for continuity purposes, but trying to cut out all of the "go here and kill so many of X critter" silly buggers is making me wanna throw a plushie across the room. And sorry about the short chapter, I figured that _anything_ is better than waiting longer for something. @_@//

Lysander sighed happily as he woke up, feeling solid warmth pressed against him. It would be a while before he could have this again, and he took a minute to savor it, taking Thancred's hand gently to kiss it. He smiled in the darkness when he felt Thancred squeeze his hand in return, and he rubbed his thumb over his partner's knuckles. "Hey, love, sleep well?"

"Surprisingly, yes. I've been getting restful sleep with you, better than I usually get."

With a chuckle, Lysander rolled onto his back and pulled Thancred atop of himself, twining his arms around the other man's neck while he kissed him softly. "And you discover this just as I'm heading off for a week. Well, I'll come back as fast as I can, because after dealing with that forest I'll be needing a back rub. ...As well as a different rub."

It was Thancred's turn to chuckle, reaching between Lysander's legs to pinch his bottom, and grinning at the gasp that the dancer made. "I'm fond of carnal pleasures, but you seem to need them to survive. I wonder how long you'll last without a partner before your arm falls off from overuse."

"Oy! Rude!" This was said with a smile, and though it was dark in there, they could still hear the mirth in each other's voices. "Right, I should get up and get going. I just..." He sighed again as Thancred draped himself atop of him, hugging each other firmly. "...I just don't want this moment to end..."

They lay there in silence for a minute longer, then got up and dressed. Thancred found his clothes from the day before, but Lysander put on his red-and-brown traveling outfit, with the tall boots and cap that matched his waistcoat. He initially reached for his nicer earrings, but opted for the plain studs, as he was going to be exploring a forest, and anything ornate or dangling was going to get caught on things. Adjusting the crystal on its leather cord around his neck, he glanced in the mirror as he put on his gloves, then picked up his traveling pack. He also wanted to take his guitar, but that was too fragile and bulky. If only he could just summon it like his rapier-

...Hmm...

He pondered this silently and left the room, followed by Thancred in the shadows, and went to the kitchens to find a quick snack and drink. A quick glance at the chronometer told him that he had slept later than he had intended, but after that incident with the Echo the day before it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that it had burned quite a bit of his aether. Already at the table were Urianger and the twins, and he waved brightly as he set his bag by the door. "Hey, I'm heading out in a bit, if you've got any last questions this is the last chance before I'm gone a few days." He took a seat at the table, pouring himself a cup of tea, adding cream and a tiny bit of honey.

Alisae put her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, looking both awed and delighted. “I want to hear _all_ of your stories from when you traveled with grandfather. This is so wonderful! We had heard of the hero who had stood with him at Carteneau, but to actually be able to meet that person, it’s almost too good to believe!”

Lysander blinked, putting down his cup. “I… Well, yes, I traveled with him, and the Circle and I had many adventures, but I’m… I’m not a hero!”

“You _are_!” she insisted, “everyone forgot your name and your face but they still remembered that you were there, and you have inspired so many all over Eorzea, of course you-”

“I didn’t do anything!” he shouted, standing suddenly and slamming both hands on the table, “you saw it yesterday, _everyone_ saw it! I stood there terrified out of my mind until he sent me away. He’s dead because I was useless and a coward and he had to get rid of me to try and save himself. It’s my fault and I’m not a damn hero!”

Abruptly, he realized that all three Elezen were staring at him in shock, and he felt his throat tighten as his eyes burned and blurred with tears. He backed away and tripped over his chair, and as he scrambled to his feet he bounced off of Thancred, who was standing in the doorway. Choking off a broken apology, he pushed past him and ran into the hallway, nearly running into someone else, and took off at a sprint down the hallway, throwing himself into the shadows (and against the wall as he did so) once he was out of line of sight. He had intended to break for the doors outside, but had been accidentally redirected back indoors, and he found himself back at his room. Pushing the door open, he sank to his knees, hugging himself tightly, trying to stifle any sound as tears ran down his face.

_Idiot. Whinging whoreson. Stupid bastard. How fucking rude. What is wrong with me? Useless. Of course I’m not a fucking hero, yelling at children like that, I’m not fit to-_

His mental recriminations were interrupted when he felt supportive arms wrap around him from behind, and a soft kiss pressed to his neck.

“...Thancred? I…”

“Whenever sang my song, on this date, on my own…” Lysander blinked, forgetting his pain and the noise in his head. The other man’s voice was warm and rich, even as he sang softly, meant only for Lysander’s ears. “...Whenever said my words, wishing they would be heard...”

Confused, he turned a little in his companion’s hold, and started in surprise when the other man brushed a thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tears. Thancred was smiling, and Lysander stared at him, not sure what to do, while the other rogue continued the song.

“I saw you smiling at me, was it real or just my fantasy? You’ll always be there in the corner, here inside the Waking Sands.” The small change to the lyrics made Lysander sniff and smile, giving a weak, relieved laugh. He wrapped his arms around Thancred’s shoulders as he buried his face in his neck. “That’s better. It’s fine, no harm done,” Thancred reassured, hugging him gently.

“But… I yelled-”

“It’s fine,” Thancred insisted, kissing him under the ear again, “they’re not angry, just confused. They don’t see it the way you and I do, they’ve not fought how we have. And...for what it is worth, you _are_ a hero. I believe in you. You had asked me to the other day, but in truth I had never stopped. And after seeing your memory of Carteneau I can’t help but feel more strongly about that.” Lysander pulled away, about to protest, and he was silenced with a finger on his lips. “Before you came back to us I had no idea who the Warrior of Light was, either. All I knew was that they had stood with our mentor in his time of need, against the might of all of Garlemald, all while the second moon was ready to crash into Eorzea.”

He held Lysander’s face between his hands, his smile amused but gentle. “Remember what Urianger said? That regardless of what you did or didn’t do that day, the fact that you were there at all is what inspires others. To hope that in the darkest moments that they too will have the courage to stand up and fight. They believe in you because of that. We all saw it, we felt your fear but we also felt your resolve to stand and fight. Yes, it’s the ‘Warrior of Light’ in which they believe, but think about that, by just _trying_ you gave them hope. We have all needed that since.” Huffing a chuckle, he pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped away the remaining tears. “You’re as good a Bard as I am, you know the power of legends and stories. You’re one of them now. Be proud of that!”

“I… I don’t… It’s…”

Once again, Thancred interrupted him, and this time it was a kiss on his lips, not fingers. “Here, come back to the table. Trust me.”

Nodding, Lysander accepted the help in standing and checked himself in the mirror, even if it was only lit by the light from the hallway. He closed the door again behind himself, and returned to the kitchen, hesitating in the doorway when Urianger and the twins looked up at him. A reassuring nudge in the small of his back gave him the strength to approach, and he rubbed his arms as he stared at the tabletop.

“I… I’m sorry, that was rude, I shouldn’t have yelled at any of you. I… I just…”

Understanding Lysander’s thoughts and seeing a glance that Thancred had given him, Urianger set down his tea and beckoned to the dancer. “Hast thou the crystal that thee took from thy primal foe?” Lysander was once more confused, but he wordlessly pulled out the red crystal and turned it over in his hands. Picking up his tea again, Urianger looked at him over the rim of the cup, though it was difficult to tell with those goggles. “Pray, regale us with the tale of thy victory over Ifrit.”

This was a strange request, as he had already told him everything the day that it had happened, and he had already told it again later with Alisaie and Alphinaud in attendance. Still, he told it again, though an abridged version, and gave Urianger a puzzled look. “I… It was a little heroic, I guess, going in like that, but… I still couldn’t save my squad.”

“Thou art asking the wrong question.” Lysander was even more confused now, and he glanced at the stone before looking back up at Urianger. The scholar smiled and sipped his tea. “Thy question is ‘how many perished?’ What thou should be asking is ‘how many hath survived?’ Many were gathered in the name of the primal, and all but six returned safely. Further, thee challenged Ifrit in single combat, knowing that thou could perish, in order to buy time for others to escape. Can thee not say that thine actions are heroic?”

“...They...are, but…”

“But?”

Lysander toyed with the crystal, staring at the floor. “I just...don’t know if I’ve earned it. I don’t want to be the bragging sort that just exaggerates everything and makes a big thing about things.” He saw the matched looks of amused confusion from the twins and nearly dropped the crystal. “Um… Did I…”

Alisaie snorted and put her face in her hands, giggling, and Alphinaud nudged her before sighing and shrugging at Lysander. “I suppose that Urianger is now asking the wrong question. Perhaps what should be asked is ‘what will it take for you to accept your actions as heroic?’ For though we have only known you a few days you already strike me as a man of honor and integrity.”

Blinking owlishly, Lysander recalled Raubahn saying the exact same thing the day of that battle, and was without a reply. Thancred clapped Lysander on the back and dropped into a chair, pouring his own tea. “I can prove to you that you _are_ the heroic sort with just one observation.” When Lysander sat as well and gave him an inquisitive look, Thancred grinned and put down the teapot. “I remember our adventures before the Calamity, and I’ve seen you in action again this week. Every time there is trouble you are the one running _into_ peril, not away.”

Putting away the crystal, Lysander happily reddened a little at the compliment, and picked up his cup. “Well… I...guess so. It just feels weird, I’ve never been anyone important. I still don’t feel like I am. Like, if I can do it anyone can, so it’s not special. But...that Echo is… It doesn’t make me special, no, but it is a power I can use to help people, so…” He gave Thancred a weak smile, which got warmer when the other man surreptitiously reached under the table to squeeze his leg. “I’ll try to be kinder to myself. And...again, sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted like that. My self-doubt and problems should never cause problems for others.”

“Then you can make it up to us with stories,” Alisaie snickered, buttering a slice of toast, “we’ll take one as payment before you leave, it sounds like you need to get going soon.”

Laughing, Lysander accepted these terms, and thought for a moment as he tried to remember what he hadn’t told yet. He recalled one, and immediately he had a delighted audience as he dove straight into one of their adventures shortly before the Calamity, and it gave him time to have two cups of tea and a light meal before he yawned and stretched his arms over his head.

“Much as I want to do this all day I need to bounce on out to Gridania. The food there isn’t bad but...I’d much rather be here or Limsa.”

“You don’t like eating your vegetables?” teased Thancred, earning a hair-ruffle for his barb.

“Some of them are just fine, but remember that not a lot grows out here, so most vegetables we _did_ get were often pickled or preserved, so I’m more used to that, and Gridanians insist on putting onions in everything. Dreadful, they taste like sadness and suffering,” he said, wrinkling his nose and enjoying the chuckles from around the table. “Now Ul’dahn cuisine, if you grow up on that you can eat _anything_.”

Alphinaud was nibbling on a slice of fruit, as he was nearly full. “I have heard that the food can often be spicy to the point of being painful, is it always like that?”

“Not always, but it is delicious, once you get the tolerance for it,” Lysander replied, standing up and pushing in his chair, “it’s the...alternate sources of protein that often turn some people off.” The twins once more gave him that puzzled yet curious look, and Urianger and Thancred smiled, knowing what he meant. “Insects,” he supplied, “it’s not uncommon to see some mealworms or crickets used, among other things.” He laughed at the way that they blanched, and picked up his dishes. “It’s not like someone will just munch on any bug that skitters across the floor, they’re farmed the same way as other animals, but they are cheap and filling, don’t need many resources or much space, and cooked properly you’d never know.”

He laughed again, as their expressions of confusion turned into horror. “It’s not used all of the time, and in some cases some are considered a delicacy. Crickets are crispy and a bit nutty, and to be honest, those same mealworms are rather bland, and are better served when ground up and mixed with spices and other things.” His grin got a bit cheekier. “You’ve eaten crab before, right? Well, what’s the difference between that and a tarantula, really?”

Thancred swatted him playfully on the bottom. “Go on, get going before you ruin something else for them.”

Chuckling again, Lysander bent down to kiss his cheek, then gave one to Urianger as he went by, but put down his dishes to offer hugs to the last two. “Until next time, hopefully I’ll be back quickly, and with good news.”

Fifteen minutes later he had his backpack and was ready to travel. Standing outside, he reached out with his mind and connected to the aetheryte at Horizon. He could have done it indoors, it wasn’t as though it would cause problems, but it was a nice day out, and it gave him a moment to clear his head before he teleported. Giving himself a moment to reorient and recalibrate, he put his hand on the aetheryte at Horizon, it was Ul’dah that was his next hop. His arrival there was again uneventful, and he gathered his thoughts and yet again put his hand on the aetheryte. This time his destination was Gridania, a _much_ farther jump, but he was in good health and had plenty of aether, and the three cities had strong connections to each other.

He grimaced as the air changed; still warm, but not as much as Ul’dah, and much more humid. Yuck…

He turned and made his way to the Caraline Canopy, as he had been informed that he would meet his companions there, and after a quick visual sweep of the room he saw them at a table to one side, looking over some notes together. Striding over, he waved when they looked up, and mirrored their smiles. “Hey, it’s been a little while. Well, a few days, at least,” he remarked, sitting down into an extra chair and dropping his backpack, “so we’re off to the Twelveswood?”

Papalymo nodded and adjusted his monocle as he pushed over a few notes for Lysander to examine. “We have conducted a study at the behest of the Order of the Twin Adder. Our task was to survey the behavior of the sylphs, a beast tribe indigenous to the Twelveswood.”

Laughing softly, Yda clapped her hands. “Oh, how to describe them... They look like...gysahl greens? Floating ones! That worship the primal Ramuh.”

“I recall something to that effect,” Lysander replied, looking at the charcoal sketch of one, and Papalymo nodded.

“Though technically a ‘beast tribe,’ sylphs are blessed with a comparatively personable demeanor, conducive to peaceful communication. This offers us an invaluable opportunity to learn what the beast tribes know of the primals.” He saw Lysander’s grimace and paused, and the Hyur put down the drawing to pick up another page.

“I bloody hate that term. Garleans started it and Ul’dahns popularized it. I mean, honestly, what is the difference between them and ‘civilized’ races? The only actual difference I’ve seen is that they call to primals for help while others call to the Twelve, and if there were a way to summon _them_ down you just know that everyone would have done it ages ago. So I’ve got a bit more respect for those who can bloody well summon up their gods at any time but don’t, unless they _need_ to.”

Sighing, Papalymo’s expression made it clear that he was of the same mind, but they let the matter drop for the moment and continued with the briefing. “While Ramuh's existence is well documented, the sylphs do not- or perhaps, can not- summon the primal any longer, insofar as can be ascertained. Until such time as we know...” He sighed and reached for other notes. “...It would be unwise to assume that the threat posed by the primal has passed.”

Sipping a cold, fruity drink, Yda put her chin in her hand. “Which leaves Gridania with the added worry of not knowing what they should be worrying about!”

“In that regard, they are hardly alone,” Papalymo agreed, “but what we can say with absolute certainty is that Gridania has its hands full fending off Garuda.” He glanced up at Lysander, noticing that Lysander recognized that name. “I need hardly remind you that she is among the most savage and terrible of all known primals.”

Lysander flipped through a couple of other notes before handing the stack back to Papalymo. “As I was told before I left, we’re trying diplomacy first, as we should. And since words and actions can be misconstrued, especially between races with drastically different cultures, the hope is that the Echo will help us convey our honest intentions, yeah?”

“That is correct,” replied Papalymo, reaching for his own drink, of the same cold, fruity sort, “we will be off to East Shroud once we link up with our contacts in the Adders.”

Thinking about this, Lysander pulled up a mental map and did some path-finding. “East... That’s Hawthorn?...”

“The Hawthorn Hut, correct,” confirmed Papalymo, “and judging by your swift arrival, I must assume that you leapt directly from the Ul’dahn aetheryte, did you not?”

With a grin, Lysander leaned back in his chair and waved a hand. “Aye, but it’s not a worry, I’ve got more than enough power to pop out there, especially if I’m making the jump from here. Just not sure if I should bring my bag with me or if I should stash it here. I packed with the expectation of being gone a few days, but I’m not sure where we’re bunking for the night.”

Papalymo carefully put away the notes as he and Yda finished their drinks. “There is lodging at the Hut, and while we have rooms here, allow us to retrieve our own packs, just in case. We may be fortunate and can resolve this in a day, but I will err on the side of caution and expect this to take a couple of days.”

Grimacing slightly, Lysander stood and shouldered his backpack. “I’ll be off to the Nest, then, who are we meeting again?”

“Our contact is Vorsaile Heuloix, and he is expecting us. Go ahead and go on ahead, we’ll be there presently, and it will give you a couple of minutes to ask your own questions.”

They parted ways for the time being, and Lysander made his way west across the city with his usual distance-devouring stride. Upon arriving at hall he sought out the first person he could find and got their attention. The Elezen in officer’s livery appeared to be surprised by his forthrightness, but addressed him politely and formally.

“Hail, adventurer, I bid you welcome to the Adder’s Nest. Do you-” He paused when he saw the pin on Lysander’s lapel, and it took a couple of seconds for him to figure out what that meant. “Ah, not just an adventurer, then, but of the Flames. They do seem to be fond of enrolling your sort, and reports state that such efforts have paid off. Are you here on official business?”

Offering a salute (and receiving a slightly different one in return), Lysander allowed himself a slightly relaxed posture, even though he saw that the other man greatly outranked him. He wasn’t great with the insignia of the other Companies, but he’d at least gotten passing familiarity. “Yes, but not with the Flames. I’m Lysander Morgensonne, here on behalf of the Scions. I’m looking for a Vorsaile Heuloix.”

The other man looked more surprised, and made a hum of curiosity before relaxing his own stance. “Then you have found him, lieutenant. Or do you have a preferred form of address?”

“Lysander is fine,” he chuckled, “I’m here in more of a civilian and freelance capacity right now. My companions will be along shortly, and they have briefed me on some of the preliminaries.”

Beckoning for Lysander to follow, he took a seat by a table in the shade, a little bit away from the bustle and noise of the hall. “Then you are aware of the needs of the Adders and Gridania as a whole.” He rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers as he talked, looking determined. “The sylphs are, for the most part, a peaceable bunch- much to the delight of the Elder Seedseer, who has no desire to see her people embroiled in yet another fruitless war. The Twin Adder is of the same mind, and 'tis precisely for this reason that the sylphs' relation to the primal Ramuh has raised a flag of warning amongst our ranks. Friendly as they may appear, beastmen will be beastmen.” He sighed and tapped his fingertips together thoughtfully, and missed Lysander’s momentary glare before continuing. “Should there be even a sliver of a chance that the summoning of the primal might disturb the balance between Gridania and the sylphic tribes, it is a possibility we cannot ignore.”

Lysander gave a half-shrug, remembering the altercation with the warlike Amaal’ja and his fight with Ifrit. “Aye, on one hand you want to resolve this peacefully, but at the same time, a summoning would cause problems for everyone that will take a long time to be resolved, if they can at all.”

“And there you have our dilemma; do we strike at Ramuh, or leave the sylphs to their own ways? That is the question, yet I find myself lacking ample knowledge to arrive at an answer. Opinions abound within Gridania, but to listen only to one's own is among the greatest mistakes a commander can make.” He gave Lysander a focused look, and the dancer couldn’t help smiling a little. “I would hear from the other side- the sylphs themselves- and seek an impartial party to serve as my liaison. That is where you Scions come in.”

“Which we have done just in time to catch the conversation,” Papalymo remarked as he and Yda arrived, and they were welcomed to take seats as well.

Vorsaile appeared to be happy to see them, and it was shared. “Ah, it is good to see the both of you again, though I lament the loss of two of our best agents to the Scions. Still, that you will be our representatives fills me with confidence. Now, for the most recent intelligence, the sylphs of Little Solace remain untempered, and have held many a productive dialogue with our people. I would hear their candid thoughts on their tempered brethren. That said, I urge you to exercise due caution. Sylphic tradition and etiquette bear little resemblance to our own. It would not do to have any cross-cultural faux pas get in the way of a productive parley.”

Huffing a sigh through his nose, Lysander folded his arms across his chest as he thought. “Have we got any experts or liaisons who can instruct us in those traditions? I can adapt to most any social situation once I’ve got something to work with, but I freely admit I know bugger-all about the Shroud and its inhabitants.”

“Our closest outpost to Little Solace is the Hawthorn Hut, and our officer stationed there can brief you on that further,” replied Vorsaile, “and if you do not have the ability to ‘port directly there, there is a ferry at Westshore Pier that can take you out there.”

“That is a good reminder, but not necessary this time,” Papalymo commented, standing up and adjusting his robes, “we all have been there before and can make the transit from the city aetheryte without issue. And thanks to Lysander’s swift arrival we can be there in time to make contact this afternoon. Our efforts may take a couple of days to bear fruit, but we will waste no time in planting those seeds.”

“Very good. And before you depart, I would impart a missive to you.” He reached inside of his coat and produced a letter that he handed over to Lysander. “This is from the Elder Seedseer herself. To summarize the letter's contents in brief, it vouches for the integrity of our envoy- that would be you- and restates Gridania's desire to maintain a harmonious relationship with our long-standing friends of the forest. The war with the Ixal has taken a toll on our resources; we can ill afford to get mired in another conflict. I need not impress upon you any further the importance of this mission.”

The other three got to their feet, and Vorsaile saluted the Scions with a relieved smile. “May the Twelve see you return with good tidings.”

Ten minutes later they were adjusting to their surroundings in the Shroud, and Lysander once more wrinkled his nose at the muggy weather. Papalymo directed them toward the simple wooden buildings with the Adder symbol painted on the side, passing by several bright-colored tents set up haphazardly, and entered as casually as if they lived there. Their arrival was viewed with curiosity by a Hyuran woman at a small desk, working on paperwork of some kind, and she inquired about the nature of their visit. When informed that they were looking for the Serpent officer that could give them help with the sylphs, she perked up.

“Ah! Then you are the ones we have been expecting! The man you seek is Amelain, a sentry at Josselin's Spire, but he routinely patrols out this way. Err…” She considered something, tapping a finger to her lips as she thought. “He’s friends with my husband, but he’s rather tight-lipped to most everyone else. It might be difficult to- Oh! He is fond of the mead we brew from the local beehives. Perhaps a drink might get him to open up.”

Both Yda and Papalymo looked somewhat uncertain of how to proceed, but Lysander set his bag down by the door and grinned. “Then I’m the perfect man for the job, I can get _anyone_ talking, especially with a good drink at hand. Pass me a bottle or two and I’ll go make us a friend and get the info we need. If you two don’t mind getting us set up for travel that’d be fantastic,” he said, directing his remark to the Scions, “like I said earlier, I know bugger-all about the Shroud, so I’ll be relying on you to get us where we’re going.”

Getting both a couple of bottles and the man’s description, Lysander took a quick glance at a map of the area to make sure he was going the right way. They were _there_ , and the Spire was over _there_ , so that means that someone patrolling would use _this_ path, and…

His route planned, he set off, making an educated guess about how and where to meet up with their guide. He walked for what should have been enough to get him to his destination, and was about to turn back when he saw another figure approaching, and from their stride and stance it was definitely a soldier on patrol. He perked up and waved, and the Elezen gave him a curious look.

“Hello! Hey, sorry to bother, but I’m Lysander, with the Scions, we’re here about the sylph problem,” he said as he approached, “I’m looking for a Serpent, name of Amelain.”

“That is I,” the man replied, looking wary, though his expression changed to surprise and then interest when Lysander offered a bottle that he’d pulled out of a satchel.

“Lovely! I was told that you favor this stuff, and I’m keen to give it a try, I’ve not had mead in ages and I’d love the opinion of a connoisseur.”

With a chuckle and a wry grin, Amelain gestured over his shoulder behind himself. “You certainly know how to make a good first impression! The Spire’s this way, only a few minutes away, might as well have a decent place to sit rather than on the road out here.”

Lysander held his tongue until they were back at Spire a little north of the Hut, one of the many small outposts scattered throughout the Shroud, and they flopped onto the grass outside, uncorking a bottle each. The Serpent officer took a long swig, sighing with satisfaction, while Lysander sipped carefully, recalling that this sort of drink could be fantastically strong, and he didn’t want to ruin that first impression. He found it to be heady and sweet, but pleasing to the palate, and he smiled to see the other man enjoy his reaction. “Command had mentioned that we’d be getting an adventurer to help us with the situation, but I didn’t expect anyone so soon.” He glanced at Lysander again and saw the insignia, and his brows furrowed. “...Or to be getting assistance from the Flames…”

“Oh! I’m here as a Scion, not a Flame,” he reassured, holding up both hands and laughing, “it’s a long story, and I’ll tell you about it later if you’ve got the time and interest. And I hate to be blunt and just dive right into things, but right now what I need is what you know about how to talk with the sylphs and not make a total mess of it.”

Mollified, Amelain took another swig, resting his weight on a hand behind himself as he thought. “Well, first, for all their whimsy, they are a wary lot. Particularly since the Empire has come to the Shroud…” He paused when he saw Lysander snarl, and rightly deduced that he had also had bad dealings with them. “Still, earn their trust and they're as friendly as any folk. They have their quirks, but so do we all, no?”

Chuckling, he took another drink, looking relaxed. “Don’t underestimate them, however, despite their childlike appearance and mannerisms, they are deviously mischievous. Take a nap in their vicinity and you’ll find yourself a canvas for all forms of glyphs, squiggles, and other manner of markings. It comes off with no ill effects, mind you, but it’s still vexing to those not expecting it. Also, while one can hardly go wrong with food or drink as a gift,” he paused to raise his bottle, and Lysander met it in a playful toast before he continued, “they don’t eat the same things we do. They seem to live off of just sunlight, and only eat or drink for the fun of it. Intoxicants, y’know?”

His expression grew serious for a moment. “...They’ve also been known to send sentries into a ravine, laughing at them the entire time. We’ve thankfully not had any fatalities, but that sort of thing hardly endears our people to theirs. They call such things pranks, but that only works when the ones being pranked can fly. Hmm, what else… Ah, dancing!”

Lysander perked up at this, and the Elezen laughed heartily. “Not like you’re used to, I imagine, since they hover and fly about, but given that look, that’s something you know well, so you should figure it out quickly enough. It’s a time-honored greeting among them, but I’ve no idea how they go about doing it. And lastly, it’s good manners anywhere you go, you’d best bring a gift with you.”

Taking another drink, Lysander looked critically at his bottle. “Since they don’t eat or drink quite like we do, I assume that another bottle of this probably won’t do the trick, will it?”

“Correct. Their tastes are a bit more unusual. They like… Oh, what was it…” He sat up and tapped a finger on his knee as he stared off into the trees, thinking carefully. “Milkroot, that’s it.”

With a sigh, Lysander rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “I’ll have to ask for help on that one. I’ve got absolutely no horticultural knowledge as it is, and I know hardly anything at all about the Shroud.”

“Well, you’re more right and wrong than you know, milkroot comes from the fauna, not the flora of this area.”

Blinking, Lysander was genuinely surprised. “I’m not much of a hunter, either, but I can give that a better go, I think. What am I looking for?”

“Are you familiar with ochu?” Lysander’s look of resignation made Amelain chuckle again. “Don’t worry, someone at the Hut will know, they can direct you. But basically the root of those creatures, when chewed, produces a strange, cloudy liquid that induces curious visions in the imbiber. I’ve not tried it myself, and you’ll not catch me dead doing so, it’s got a rather foul odor, but the sylphs are fantastically fond of it.”

Taking one last drink, Lysander got to his feet. “This has been an amazing help, thanks.” He offered a hand to the other man and pulled him to his feet. “I think we’ll be able to take care of this peacefully now. Oh, here, I’ll take back the bottle for you, no sense in leaving you with something empty to haul around, and they can go ahead and refill it when I get back, right?

The Elezen’s smile was grateful, and he clapped a hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, I think that you’ll have a handle on this in no time. I’ve got one last bit of advice for you, Lysander. Upon your arrival at Little Solace, seek out a young sylph named Komuxio. He has served as an intermediary between our peoples on many an occasion, and has the close ear of his tribe's elder.”

Parting ways, Lysander returned to the Hut in short order, and relayed his findings to the other Scions. Yda perked up, knowing not only what an ochu was, but how to fight one, and volunteered to go obtain the milkroot for them. Before she could leave, though, she was given a jar to put it in, as it was something she would _not_ want to handle with bare hands for too long! After she left Papalymo and Lysander ensured that their bags were firmly tied to their mounts’ saddles, then waited patiently for her to return. In a surprisingly short time the third person of their entourage arrived with a sealed jar, looking very pleased with herself and completely unhurt. This jar was particularly carefully added to their bags, and now that they had everything that they needed, they goaded their mounts into a trot, heading northeast into the Shroud. While they rode Lysander filled them in on what he had learned, though he had to shout a little. Still, it was a pleasant enough ride, and he felt good about their mission. There would be a peaceful resolution to this, he was certain!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //If for whatever reason you think I'm interesting, I am the [Random Squirrel](http://randomsquirrel.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [L33t Squirrel](https://twitter.com/L33tSquirrel) on Twitter. Contains reblogs of things I think are interesting and random acts of shitposting.
> 
> And if you want even more interesting stuff, and enjoy both reading and writing fanfiction, come join us over at [Emet Selch's Wholesomely Debauched & Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic). We're mostly focused on FFXIV but we have writers and readers from many fandoms and are there to not only read and write some great stuff, but hype each other up to do so, because darn it, fanfiction just doesn't get the love that it deserves! And be sure to leave kudos and comments for the people you read, too! Writers need that validation to keep making delicious, free content, all they ask to be paid in is your adoration. ;)//


End file.
